


The One Thing who Made all the Same Mistakes, and that's What Makes her Beautiful

by lovetheChace



Category: One Direction (Band), X Factor RPF
Genre: Multi, One Direction 'Up All Night' Tour 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 29
Words: 192,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheChace/pseuds/lovetheChace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bec's life changed back forever about eight months ago. </p><p>She didn't realise at the time, but everything she did led her to the mess she finds herself wrapped up in eight months later in London. And in the end; who will it be? <br/>The boy she's loved since the very beginning, or the one who she can't stay away from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Want

**Author's Note:**

> hey!  
> so...my first 1D fan fic. sorry, but i'm in love with them, and i really cannot help it. writing fan fic helps me vent :) took me a while to get it started but i hope i can finish this story.  
> i know that some people don't like them, so if that's you, please dont hate! other wise, enjoy xx

  

_Present Day  
_ _November, 2012_

 

   I climbed the stairs, but only because the stupid lift was broken. Damn him, he had to go and choose the eighth floor to live on. I clung onto the railings, out of breath and realising that I probably wouldn’t survive the trip down either. I staggered, slightly unbalanced onto the eighth floor and read the number of the scrap of paper in my hand.

   10.

   I looked at the first door on my right, and it read 20, and the door on the left read 19, so I kept walking down the corridor. It was pouring buckets outside, even by comparison to normal London weather, it was storming pretty bad. Even though it was late morning, the sky was darker than usual and the busy streets were flooded with water and impatient taxis. I had sprinted down the street because I was dumb enough to leave the house without the umbrella. I had nearly slipped over in my boots, but I managed to reach the Mantle complex of apartments. Luxurious, fancy, comfortable.

   At least in here, the heating had dried off most of my clothes, though it wasn’t doing much for my hair, and the violent thunderstorm sounds were muffled through the thick walls. I finally reached number 10. My heart was racing in my chest at an impossibly fast speed. What if he had changed? What if I had changed? Had I changed? Before any more crazy thoughts could make it into my head, I raised my fist and knocked on the door. I waited for about half a minute without any reply, so I knocked again. This time, it was only a brief moment of waiting before the door swung open.

   Bang. Just like that, I was knocked off my feet. Well not literally, but I felt as though I had. What could I have been worried about? He hadn’t changed a bit. He looked a bit older, his eyes were still brilliant blue but their undertone was greyer and more seductive, and he had let his naturally dark roots grow out to weave between the bleached hair. He looked so good, I could have just gobbled him up right there. Instead, I just gaped.

   I saw him blink in surprise, as if checking that I was really there. I also realised that embarrassingly enough, he was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Interesting. His eyes were wide now, and he didn’t say a word, but I think his eye were softening to the young baby blues I had remembered.

   “Niall,” I blurted, because the silence was getting unbearably uncomfortable. “Hi.” I let out a deep breath as I greeted him, one that I felt like I had been holding in forever. His mouth was beginning to form a smile.

   “Bec,” he said, “Oh my g…Bec!” He laughed as he almost jumped on me in delight, with a crazed look of happiness in his eyes. I locked my arms around his neck and he hugged me. He had obviously been working out and doing presses or something because his chest was much firmer and stockier than before. I could feel him laughing into my hair, holding me against him.

   “I missed you,” I whispered into his chest. He smelled the same, like wood and unwashed clothes. It was surprisingly strong and it almost overwhelmed me. An inexplicable warmth spread to my fingertips. I stepped away from him and smiled. “You look…you look great.”

   “You too,” he said, surveying me, “What are you doing in London, babe?” The endearment sent me back. Instead of saying ‘yeah buddy’ to me, he used a gentler ‘yeah babe’. That idiot.

   “I’m studying here,” I said with a smile, “London U, I got a scholarship. I’ve been meaning to visit for a while, I moved here about a month ago, but I’ve been really busy. I managed to wrestle your adresses from some connections I have.”

   “Yeah, the…the guys are in the the same complex,” he said, still grinning from ear to ear. “How long…how long has it been?”

   “Half a year? Forever,” I replied, finding myself unable to stop smiling. I was too overwhelmed with seeing him again, for the pain to register. His eyes were slowly glazing back over again. The joy in them abruptly vanished and he looked nervously over his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, is this a bad time?” I asked quickly, noting how uncomfortable he looked.

   “N-no,” he stammered, looking anxious, “It’s…I’m just-”

   “Nialler!” I heard a girl’s voice coo, from somewhere deep in his apartment, “Get back here, I’m getting cold!”

   “Oh,” I said my eyes widening quickly, cursing myself internally for being so dumb. Really, Niall pulling a Harry and walking around naked for no reason at all? Pfft. “Oh. God. I’m sorry, ah, god, so sorry. I’ll- I’ll just…”

   “Bec,” he said but I turned away.

   “I’ll see you around Niall,” I said quickly, shooting him a grim smile before turning on my heel and fleeing down the corridor. Embarrassed. Humiliated. Would there ever be an end to it? I walked down the endless flights of stairs, and finally reached the massive lobby. The ceiling was probably the equivalent height of four floors, with massive crystal chandeliers and warm light spilling around the floor. It sharply contrasted to the stormy weather outside. I walked across the wide expanse briskly towards the exit, bracing myself for the torrents of rain sure to come.

   I brushed past someone wearing a black jacket with a grey fleece hood pulled over their head and headed towards the rotating doors. I was beginning to push the revolving doors, when I jumped when there were sharp knocks and muffled noise coming from the glass behind me. I stopped pushing and looked around, confused.

   “Bec!” I blinked rapidly, an uncontrollable smile spreading across my face. I pushed the doors around, and jumped out again in the lobby, flinging my arms around his neck. My Bradford Bad Boi!

   “ZAYN!”

   “You crazy girl!” he announced, holding me at arm’s length and spinning me around, “What on earth are you doing in London?”

   “Moved here,” I replied, twirling around and stepping down with a flourish, “I’m studying at London U, Zayn. I should still be in school, but the semester starts early here, so I got an early transfer!”

   “When did you move?”

   “A month ago, but I’ve been so busy,” I explained, “Sorry, I should have dropped by earlier.”

   “Yes, you should have!” he replied, hugging me again, “We’ve all missed you so much. Especially Harry. He’ll go ballistic when he hears you two’ve been in the same city for a few weeks and he hadn’t the chance to see you. The boy’s mad, I swear.”

   “I’ve missed him,” I admitted with a slight blush, “I missed all of you!”

   “Why were you leaving?” he demanded, crushing me his arms, “Don’t you dare go! Come back upstairs, babes.”

   “Uh, I don’t think that’s a great idea,” I replied, taking an unsteady step out of his embrace, “I-I just got here, and I’ve gotta go…”

   “Why?” he asked curiously.

   “I…I went to visit Niall,” I said, looking at my feet, “Urgh god Zayn, it was so embarrassing.”

   “What happened?” he asked, but he was holding back a smile. I shook my head firmly.

   “Ah Bec. Don’t worry, I know you’d miss him the most. He did leave first mind you.”

   “Yeah,” I said angrily, “Because of me.”

   “Forget him,” Zayn replied dismissively, “You, upstairs now! Harry will explode when he sees you. Louis too, and I know he pretends not to, but he truly likes you.”

   “How about Liam?”

   “You know, Liam and Niall were always the closest,” he said, hugging his black jacket tighter around him, “Come on, Bec. The guys will love having you around again, this time it’s not just for two months in a foreign country while we’re touring, it’s as long as you want!”

   “Alright, OK,” I said laughing, “I’ll say hi. But please. Don’t leave me alone with Niall.”

   “He’ll be right…seriously, what happened, Bec?”

   “I…it was fine at first,” I explained hesitantly, “We were so happy to see each other, I think we both forgot for a moment what…tore us apart. Then he looked sort of uncomfortable, and- dammit Zayn, he had another girl in there with him. In bed. And I walked in!” I groaned, burying my head in my hands. “I have the worst timing.” Zayn was trying hard not to crack up, but I waved him on and he doubled over clutching his stomach.

   “What an entrance!” he exclaimed, taking my hand, “Come on Bex, it’s been six months, he’s gotten over it. Him and Harry don’t even fight, they were as they always were.”

   “Is everyone up there?”

   “‘f course,” he said, pulling me to the side, “Come, back here.” He guided me around to the staircase but I groaned.

   “I just climbed up and down these things to be totally humiliated,” I said, shaking my head, “Maybe tomorrow. When I have more energy.”

   “You fool, you climbed the stairs?” he asked, “Just take the working elevator!”

   “I thought they were broken?”

   “The industrial ones, deary,” he said patiently, pointing to a dark large lift behind the flights of stairs, “They’re way bigger, and go to the same floors anyway.”

   It was dark and creepy, the lights were constantly flickering, but at any rate it was better than climbing all those steps. Zayn hit the 7th floor button, and said,

   "Harry and Louis’ apartment’s on the 7th, it’s bigger so we usually hang out there. Mine is on the 7th too, Liam’s is on the sixth floor. Obviously, you know where Niall’s is.”

   “I thought he’d be the one who be in, you know,” I said defiantly, “He’s the stay at home, lazy type.” Zayn smirked, pulling his phone out.

   “Don’t be so defensive, Bec,” he advised, “He forgives easily. Just treat like you treat the rest of us. Like friends.”

   That’s all he said, but I couldn’t help but think that there was a slim chance that Niall and I could ever be that. Too much had happened between us for it to ever be normal, and it would end up being either very awkward or leaning back to something more than friends. I couldn’t have that. Zayn started texting, his fingers blurring to a haze. Gosh, he was so quick at texting. Explained why he was always the first to return my texts.

   “Just texted the boys that I’ll be up with you,” he said, tucking his phone away as the lift grinded to a stop, “They’ll get it.”

   The doors opened and we stepped out. It still took us to the seventh floor but it ended up on the far end of the elevator lobby. Wrapping his arm around my waist, we walked down the corridor and stopped outside the door with the number 5. I had barely knocked, when the door flung open and Louis was standing there with a smirk, before pulling me through the door and wrapping me in a massive bone-crushing bear hug. I squeaked out a feeble noise and he was laughing I think.

   “What took you so long?” he snapped playfully in my ear, “You should have come sooner, you crazy bitch.”

   “It’s true, it’s true,” I laughed, pulling away and fixing his hair consciously, “Sorry, Lou.”

   “Don’t apologise to me,” he smirked, “You should watch out, cos-” I blinked, and in an instant, I was actually literally knocked off my feet in a blur of curly hair. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs in a thrilling way, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck as he held on to me so tight as though he might drop me. I felt my back make impact with the wall, but I clung on to him, squeezing my eyes shut. We rolled off the wall so he was leaning against it instead and I gripped him, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms again.

   “Bec,” he was mumbling into my air, nonsensically, “Bec…”

   “Oh Harry,” I laughed, pulling as close as I dared, “I missed you.”

   “I missed you more,” he replied, “Stay. Forever. I’m not joking, six months felt like a lifetime.” I pulled out of the hug and grinned at him. “When the hell did you get here?”

   “I moved here a month ago,” I said sheepishly and he, like Zayn predicted, look slightly distraught.

   “W-why didn’t you come and visit, you knob?” he demanded, pulling me in another hug, “God.”

   “I’ve been busy,” I murmured into his shirt. He smelled the same as well, like new clothes and leather belts.

   “I’m studying here, now Haz. At London U.”

   “The best news I’ve heard all week!” he exclaimed, “You can stay with us, London U is like a five minute bus ride from here!”

   “No,” I said quickly, shaking my head, “I don’t want to crash with you guys, I’ll just be a nuisance.”

   “Bullshit.”

   “I would if I could,” I said, taking his hand, and looking around the apartment. It was large, the kitchen and dining room was adjacent to the living room, where there was a set of comfy looking sofas and a widescreen tv. A hallway to the right led to several bedrooms, and the shorter one to the left only led to one bedroom and a bathroom.

   “Do you like it?” he asked and I nodded.

   “You guys are doing pretty good for yourself,” I said, “This place is gorgeous. Where’s Liam? I want to say hi.”

   “He’s in the spare room,” said Louis, pointing to the first room to the right. I let go of Harry’s hand and he looked a little despairing, but I walked on anyway. Oh Haz, how I had missed him so much. I peeked into the first room and saw Liam sitting on the bed, looking a little concerned.

   “Liam!” I cried, running inside the room, only to pull up short at the sight of Niall sitting on the bed opposite to Liam. “Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting…something?” Again?

   “No,” said Niall quickly, avoiding my eye and staring hard at Liam, who jumped to his feet and gave me a tight hug, not quite as damaging as Louis’or Harry’s.

   “Wow Bec,” he said, not sounding even faintly surprised, “Great to see you again.” Looking over his shoulder, I could see Niall looking intensely uncomfortable, fidgeting distractedly on the bed.

   “You too Liam,” I said, staring at him. “How’s Danielle?”

   “She’s good, I suppose,” he said glancing briefly at Niall who was now avoiding the both of us. “How have you been?”

   “Good,” I said, “I’m at London U on a scholarship, which means I’ll be seeing a whole lot more of you guys now, which’ll be great!” I emphasised the part about seeing a whole lot more of them, gauging Niall’s flat expression. Liam didn’t even look vaguely interested, but more troubled with Niall, which made me think that maybe the two were discussing the embarrassing occurrences that we’d just had upstairs about ten minutes ago.

   “Which apparently,” I added, “Niall might have mentioned to you already.” Liam opened his mouth to say something, and Niall looked at me for the first time, but I cut across them. “Never mind, I’ll go. You guys keep talking.” I flounced out the room moodily. I walked up to Harry, Louis and Zayn, chilling on the couch.

   “You look a little pissed off,” noted Zayn and I shot him a look, “…and I was right.”

   “Haz, can we hang out today?” I asked, ignoring him, “I’m off study or any lectures.”

   “Excellent,” he announced, jumping off the sofa, “Well, catch you boys later, I’m out on a hot date.”

   “Have fun,” said Louis, jabbing his thumb towards the window, “The weather sucks cock.” Harry looked and sighed.

   “He’s right, Bec,” he admitted, “What do you want to do? Preferably not outdoor stuff. Picnic day another time?”

   “Raincheck,” I replied sarcastically and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist. “What about just go for a coffee? Don’t feel like doing much else today.”

   “Perfect,” he said, grabbing his brown blazer and his phone, “Be back later, lads.”

   “See you guys,” I said, waving over my shoulder. They waved us goodbye, and as soon as the door shut, Harry pecked me on the forehead and said,

   “Now, lead the way, Londoner.”

***

   After we left the apartment, I took him to a cosy café a few streets away that I had been first introduced to by a few of my new friends at the university. It was small, and warm inside. There were only a few lights, so it was lit by mostly daylight, which wasn’t ample today. We had sat curled on in a small corner booth, my legs resting over his, head on his shoulder, drinking coffee and just talking. It was stupid, but the entire time, all I could think of was how we were right before he left.

   Between by heartbreak of Niall’s abrupt departure and his tender care, I had spiralled down into some sort of relationship with him. And the chemistry we had; not only physical which was fantastic, but emotional too, it was all still there. He smiled at me and wrapped his fingers into mine. After a while, the storming stopped. He checked his watch.

   “It’s about five, we should get back,” he said, pulling out his wallet to pay, “Will you stay over tonight?” I bit my lip as we stood up together and he pulled his blazer on.

   “I don’t know,” I said, “I don’t wanna just show up with the guys then spend the night over. I feel like I’m intruding.”

   “Psssh,” said Harry, waving it off, “You’re my bestie. Apart from Louis. The guys adore you.”

   “Not Niall,” I mumbled.

   “What’s that?”

   “Nothing,” I said louder, “Let’s go Haz, before it starts raining again.” I grabbed his hand and we left. Just as we were walking down the street, just adjacent to the Mantle, it started pouring buckets again. Cursing, we stumbled down the streets, which were quickly flooding with rain water once again. We ducked for cover under an underpass near by, huddling together for warmth. He wrapped his arms around me as a gust of wind whipped past us. I shuddered violently, but he was warm.

   I looked up and realised he was looking back at me, which those brilliant eyes. They were bright. His lips were pouting like they always did when he wanted something. Before I knew what I was doing, I had reached up and kissed him, holding him in me for as long as I could. Urgh. I couldn’t resist him. After a while of just kissing, we broke apart. He smiled and took my hand again.

   “Come on,” he urged, “Let’s get you dried up.” By the time we had reached the apartment again, we were soaked through and tired. The elevator ride up was long and slow. When we arrived back inside Harry and Louis’ room, it was dark and empty. Even Louis was out. But we were too wrapped up in each other to notice. 

   Gripping his jacket, I pulled him into his bedroom; the only room to the left. Our kisses were deep and sensual, and he was breathing heavily. I could already feel myself being lost in him, as so often I had before. There would never be an end to it. So I stopped thinking and let him take control. 


	2. Na Na Na

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so you've heard what's happening in october 2012...rewind the clock back six months to explain all that confusing stuff!  
> enjoy xx

 

_Eight Months Ago:  
_ _March, 2012_

 

  
  
   I tucked my hair out of my eyes, rushing through the door. It was way too wet to do much, and luckily my family were out. No stupid older sister Sarah to cuss at me and play her fan-girly One Direction music full blast in her bedroom; she'd be busy doing that with her fellow Directioner friends at their house instead.

   I pulled off my school shoes, and dumped them at the doorstep. I chucked my school bag next to them and let out a deep breath. A small cloud of hot air wafted infront of my eyes and I shivered involuntarily. As soon as I reached the living room, I cranked up the heater and shoved the meal my mum had pre-made in the microwave. It hummed as I curled up on the sofa and turned the television on. I had hardly begun to enjoy my recorded How I Met Your Mother episode, when I heard someone knocking frantically at the door. My first instinct was to hit the MUTE button and pretend no one was home. But I was a little curious, so I got up and peeked through the eyehole.

   I pulled away abruptly. No. It couldn't be.

   That swaggering Irish boy I had ran into at the mall this afternoon? We had bantered for about five minutes, before I stormed away because of his cocky attitude. What the hell! It struck me that the coincidence was uncanny, therefore he must have stalked me home. I ducked away, and didn't answer. I heard him knock impatiently on the door again. Giving up, I wrenched the door open. Immediately, the sound of rain hit my ears. I was momentarily blind to the darkness outside the door, but I blinked and began to see clearer. I leaned over and flicked the balcony light on.

   "You!" I snapped, and he looked up. His eyes widened, which almost made me believe that it was all a ridiculous chance that he had showed up at me door. He was also gripping his knee and holding what looked like part of a small tree. 

   "You!" he cried in surprise, staggering back unsteadily, looking confused, "I...did you..? How-"

   "How do you know where I live?" I demanded.

   "I didn't," he replied blankly, "I just...can you let me in? Please? I hurt myself."

   "What are you holding?" I asked suspiciously, peering through the safety screen which I was beyond thankful for, "Are you gonna batter me with that once you get in?"

   "Ha! You wish," he muttered, looking away, "I broke it. It's my guitar."

   "What did you do to yourself?" I asked again, still not budging. This weird boy. Stupid accent. Broken guitar. I had every reason to be suspicious.

   "Argh," he hissed, letting go of his knee with one hand. I saw the blood and instantly recoiled. "Tripped?"

   "Alright, alright," I said, opening the safety screen as he let out a particularly painful groan and he hobbled through the doorway. "Lie down on the sofa. I'll get something for you."

   "Thank you," he said. I closed the door behind as he limped slowly towards the couch. I grabbed a few towels from the bathroom and dampened them lightly. When I returned he looked like he was in some sort of all consuming severe pain.

   "A...are you OK?" I asked, gently as possible. I knelt next to him and got him to take his hands off his knee. Eurgggh. I winced and quickly pressed the towels to his wound. He made some sort of pained moan and squeezed his eyes shut. "Sorry."

   "No," he said, opening his eyes and shaking his head quickly, "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm just a..."

   "An idiot, don't worry I know," I said, with a small smile. He grinned at me, and I felt a blush begin to grow up my neck. I turned away. "Just keep the pressure on it. I'm gonna get some bandages." He made another funny noise as I got up and left. I opened the medicine cabinet, wondering how I would explain this to my parents. I decided, that I just wouldn't bother. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. When I returned I heard him guffawing, and I realised that How I Met Your Mother was still on. Hmm. Apparently American humour wasn't wasted even on Irish guys.

   I wrapped his knee up, and I knew that it must have hurt like a bitch, but all he did was squish his eyes shut constantly and mumble things I couldn't be bothered to listen to. Eventually, I just left him lying there, looking a little worse for wear. I returned to the kitchen at the sound of the impatient beeping microwave.

   “I’ve got food,” I said nervously, poking my head into the living room. The blonde Irish guy looked up and his eyes lit up.

   “Food?” he repeated hopefully. I gave a small grim smile and held up my plate of rice and chicken. He broke into what must have been a smile, and I found myself unbelievably drawn to him which was ridiculous as his leg was still bleeding desperately under her towel, plus he was an annoying witty Irish guy. I walked over and handed him the plate gently. He took it gratefully and to hmy surprise, didn’t hold back as he grabbed some with his hand and stuffed his mouth. It sort of made me want to laugh and hit him over the head at the same time. I leant down and gently peeled the bandage from his knee as far as I dared. I winced at how deep his wound looked, but at least it had stopped gushing blood like a tap.

   “Pretty bad, eh?”

   I stared at it hard, gauging my response.

   “You’ll need some…bandages, and some…well, you need to wash it, and put some disinfectant on it,” I said carefully.

   “Disinfectant?” he repeated with a wide grin, and a mouthful of food.

   “Oh shut up, Irish boy, you know what I mean,” I snapped, and he laughed shortly, which was sounded cute, a sort of choked out laugh followed by a rough chortle.

   “Believe it or not, I haven’t been called Irish boy before,” he admitted, wincing slightly as he sat up.

   “Careful,” I warned, placing a cautionary hand on his chest. It wouldn’t have been a problem, but he stopped so abruptly when I touched him, that it became swiftly awkward. His chest was actually very firm and warm. His damp t-shirt was beginning to dry, and at a closer look, his hair which was spiked up yet a little deflated under the rain, was a flawless blonde and darker at the roots. Those bright vibrant blue eyes were still staring right at me, those slight cheek bones and those naturally pouty pale lips. God.

   I quickly drew my hand away, but he caught it, and gently pulled me close. I didn’t know what to think, as he leaned towards me slowly and I thought I saw a hint of a smile on those lips and they kissed.

***

   “Should we call the police?” asked Liam, looking up at the clock on the wall, “It’s almost 10, he’s been gone since…”

   “Not the police,” interrupted Louis, “That’s a little premature, Lee-am.”

   “Check it out,” said Harry, holding his phone to their faces. They leant in and read the brief article on the screen.

   _Georgia Little has denied any sort of romantic assosciation with Irish One Direction band member, Niall Horan. Little claims that they are just friends, and she sees him no more than a brother, even though the two were frequently spotted backstage during their corresponding stints X-Factor._

   “You have to say though,” added Zayn, setting down his compact mirror on the table as Harry curled up at his feet with his phone. “That Georgie was pretty rough in the denial thing.”

   “It’s Niall, remember?” said Harry, not looking up from his phone, on which he was undoubtedly texting on, “He doesn’t get the whole ‘serious’ thing.”

   “I think he liked her,” Louis said thoughtfully, “You know when he doesn’t know what to say or think, he goes into that little Niall-world where its just him and his guitar.”

   “It’s great for when he’s writing for the album,” Harry replied quickly, “But he’s always laughing and fooling around, it’s no wonder why he can’t hold a girl.”

   “Any girl would want to hold him,” replied Zayn.

   “True,” said Liam, “But what would they do once they could? You know what all girls want, you know? And Niall’s all great to hang around with, but he doesn’t do that. Hasn’t he only been out with three girls?”

   “Guys, the only people he loves is his family, and us,” pointed out Louis. Abruptly there was a click as the door of the room unlatched. All four of them jumped quickly to their feet as Niall hurried through the door, his purple hoodie tugged tightly around him, his headphones slung around his neck, holding a soaked canvas bag. His shoes were sopping wet, and as he tugged his hood off his head, he shook the rain from his hair and lashes.

   “Where have you been you pyscho?” demanded Liam, jumping over the couch and shaking him slightly. “We were worried as hell about you!”

   “It’s nearly 10!” exclaimed Louis, sounding like a mother, as he punched him on the shoulder, “Where did you go?”

   “Bro, your phone was off!” added Zayn, “You could have been kidnapped by crazy fans, for all we know.” Niall stared at them all, a dazy confused look in his eyes and he surveyed each of their faces carefully, as if trying to remember who they were. He was strangely and uncommonly quiet. They stared back in anxiety.

   “Nialler?” asked Harry softly, taking hold on the canvas bag from him and opening it. He peered into it and let out a faint shriek. “No!”

   “What is it?” demanded Zayn looking out his shoulder. In the bag, were the remains of Niall’s guitar; Jane, in pieces of smashed up wood and snapped strings. “Oh my god dude, it’s not her, is it?”

   “Niall?” Louis asked, “You’re weirdly quiet. What happened?” Niall opened his mouth, then smiled so suddenly that the others blinked at him a few times before registering his sudden change of mood.

   “I’m great, thanks,” he said, looking around at them and grinning. He took the canvas bag back from Harry and plonked it down on the table.

   “I’m sorry,” said Liam, sinking down in the chair opposite him, “We know you loved your guitar.”

   “Yeah,” agreed Zayn, “Jane was the best. But it’ll be fine, we’ll get you another one soon.”

   “It’s alright,” waved off Niall dismissively, grunting as he stood and peeled off his wet shoes and socks. “Oh crap, my lucky socks are gross. I’m gonna wash these, guys.”

   “Where the _fuck_ did you go?” asked Louis, “And why is one of your knees thicker than the other?”

   “I just went for a walk with Jane,” said Niall defensively, “Honest!”

   “Yeah,” said Zayn as they all stared at his knees, “What’s with the knees, bro?”

   “My knees are fine,” Niall said, attempting to dart past them, but Liam dropped down and yanked his pants around his ankles. “Argh, Liam!”

   “I did it once, I’ll do it again!” Liam replied with a beady glare, recalling the time he had dakked Niall at a service station. They all looked. Niall looked down at the rough patch work that was his knee. The wound was wrapped in a thin bandage, yet the blood was beginning to seep through. “Did you go to the hospital or something?”

   “Niall,” said Harry slowly, “Sit down and tell us everything.” Niall leant down and hoisted his jeans back up.

   “Can I tell you one thing which will sort of explain everything?” he tried.

   “Depends how good the one thing is,” said Louis, before laughing, “Funny, cos, One Thing is the name of one of our songs.”

   “I met a girl.” The abrupt statement was met with silence.

   “A-a girl?” repeated Liam, being the first to break it, “Like…a girl.”

   “Yes, a girl,” sighed Niall, “Can I go shower now, guys? I smell like rain and blood.”

   “Really?” asked Zayn, walking over, grabbing Niall’s hoodie and giving it a small and suspcious sniff. His dark eyes furrowed.

   “Interesting. Your hoodie smells like rain, no doubt. But…” He leaned in, and sniffed Niall’s t-shit. “Your shirt smells like girly perfume.”

   “Girly perfume,” laughed Niall, backing away slighty, “I told you, I did meet a girl.”

   “Oh god, you whore!” exclaimed Harry, with a laugh as the others registered what he was saying, “You didn’t!”

   “I didn’t what? I’m not a whore!” Niall protested weakly.

   “Did you, you know…?” hinted Harry with a smile while Niall raised his eyebrows slowly in confusion.

   “Be a gentleman,” warned Liam nudging him in the ribs with his elbow.

   “You did her?” divulged Harry.

   “What?” blurted Niall, “No, I- no! I didn’t do her.”

   “Then what did you do?” asked Harry, looking confused. Niall stared at him.

   “I kissed her,” he said quietly. Then he grinned, grabbed his bag and tried desperately to retreat to his room.

   “Wait, you didn’t even know this girl and you kissed her?” demanded Louis, blocking the doorway. He looked surprised, “That’s such a Harry thing to do.”

   “It’s not!” insisted Niall, “As you could tell, Harry probably would have ‘done her’ by now.”

   “Unless she wasn’t hot,” piped up Harry, “Was she hot?”

   “She was fine,” said Niall flippantly, trying to dodge around Louis.

   “Wait, let me clarify,” asked Zayn, “Was she _fi-ine_? Or was she just, you know, fine.”

   “I don’t even know what you just said,” replied Niall, turning to the toilet but Liam blocked his way this time, “And I think I’m going to have to piss on the floor if you guys don’t leave it alone.”

   “You kissed a girl,” said Liam, “How did you meet her?”

   “OK, OK,” said Niall finally, “I’ll tell you, but pull up a chair, or I will be in serious danger of pissing my pants.” They sat down as Niall adjusted the canvas bag carefully on his lap, playing with one of the fraying handles. “I went for a walk with Jane,” he said, “I just felt like thinking, and then it started to rain. I was considering coming back, but it was fairly early still, so I just kept walking. I was walking down a street, and I was just playing Jane a bit, and then I slipped over and stacked my knee on the curb.”

   “Was it still raining?”

   “Does it matter?”

   “I’m just trying to picture to scene.”

   “Alright, it was raining, pretty heavy still. My knee was gushing, so I went into the closest house. And a girl opened the door, her parents were out and her sister was staying over at her friend’s place. I knew the girl. I had bumped into her a few days ago at that shopping mall we performed at. She insulted my like I was dog shit on her shoe, but at least she took me in, dried my stuff and even gave me food. She even bandaged up my knee.”

   “Food?” Zayn repeated with a raised eyebrow.

   “Bonus points,” added Harry under his breath.

   “Anyway,” continued Niall loudly, “I dunno, she was just so…refreshing to talk to and all. I’m almost certain she has no idea who One Direction is. She fed me, and she didn’t even complain when I stuffed my face in my plate. She was shy, and a little funny. She called my Irish boy.” He had a crooked smile on his face until the others began to roar with laughter.

   “Irish boy!” crowed Louis, clutching his stomach, “That is the official worst nickname of the century.”

   “I thought it was…fine,” said Niall haltingly.

   “It’s mocking you,” Liam told him, “She was mocking you.”

   “She does that pretty well, I have to say,” Niall admitted. “But then she touched me.”

   “Where?” they all asked immediately. He snorted.

   “Don’t get excited,” he said, “I don’t even think it counts as touching. I was sitting up and she put her hand on my chest to slow me down. But I stopped really suddenly, and she began to move away, but I grabbed her hand, and, and…I pulled her in and kissed her.”

   “NICE!” roared Zayn, slapping him on the back, “Way to make the first move, Nialler!”

   “Her hair was all messy and shit, and her eyes were really bright, and those lips were soft as…”

   “Get a room!” hooted Harry, “Why didn’t you just do her right there? Her entire family’s out, it’s raining, the passion’s running high!”

   “I wouldn’t,” he said immediately without hesitation.

   “She wasn’t hot enough? Man, you kissed her, she had to be!” Louis said, leaning in.

   “OK, she _was_ fi-ine like you were talking about, Zayn,” Niall said, “But…uh, I wouldn’t go any further than kiss her.”

   “Why?” demanded Harry.

   “Because…I think she’s about fifteen.”

***

   When the strange Irish guy had kissed me, I felt my chest actually start to hurt as though something had stuck their hand in it and was tugging at my heart strings. Somehow, the feeling was a strangely captivating, a mixture of passion, pleasure and hurt. It was amazing. All I could register was that his lips were very soft, and I was leaning against his warm chest and his hands were lying gently between us. When I finally pulled away, I stared at him for several long hard seconds, before breaking out into an abrupt smile which transformed my doubtful face into something that made him smile along as well.

   “Sorry,” he said quietly, “I…I needed to do that.”

   “I-” I stammered hesitantly, pushing a lock of hair from my face, “I…” Oh god, I was ruining this perfectly perfect moment! He sat up quickly, setting his plate on the table, and for a moment, I thought he might just stand up and hobble out the door, but every thought that screamed uncertainty instantly evaporated, as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me again. I felt myself rise off my knees and crawl into his lap, straddling and leaning against him and we continued to kiss. I had never thought kissing someone would cause such an indeterminable feeling.

   Eventually we stopped, my lips felt a little swollen but I couldn’t stop smiling. I looked at his sweet face and bit my lip. My arms were around his neck, I was sitting on his lap. His hair bristled gently across my cheek. Cautiously, he looked down and extended his hand, before looking back up in my eyes.

   “Niall,” he said. “Niall Horan.”

   “Rebecca,” I replied with a smile, “Sorry... just Bec. Bec Lowthorne.” It was so ridiculous, that the two of us couldn’t help but laugh.

   “I-I’m usually not like this,” Niall said, “I don’t kiss girls I don’t really know, especially on tour.”

   “On tour?” I repeated, looking confused. Niall quickly backtracked.

   “I’m…on exchange,” he blurted, “From Ireland.”

   “Don’t worry,” I assured quickly, “I don’t usually do this whole thing either.”

   On the whole, I decided the night had turned out quite well. Niall left after finishing his food, and gave me his number. Apparently, he was staying in Australia for two months on exchange. And apparently...he did want to see me again, which was surprising as how strong I had come on to him. Or him on to me. Either way, I sort of liked him.

   And that short amount of time was all it took to split my life into a different path.

 


	3. I Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> back in modern london... :O  
> i know the last chapter was a little confusing. it was set six months prior, in sydney, australia just so ya know!  
> this one expands more on the complications between bec and her boys :)  
> enjoy xx

 

_  
Present Day:  
November, 2012_

 

 

   I woke to the sound of Harry grumbling into my ear. I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the sunlight streaming through the gap in the window shutters. Yawning, I stretched my arms very slowly. He kept grumbling, his arm tightening possessively in his half-dreaming state around my waist and I felt him bury his face in my hair. The door opened and I abruptly drew the blanket closer around me, looking up. Louis stood there, wearing a bright red apron over his pyjamas, grinning happily.

   "Good MORNING Curly and Co!" Louis exclaimed loudly and Harry moaned, digging his forehead further into the crook of my neck.

   "Quiet!" I hissed to Louis, waving him off, but he ignored me and rattled on.

   "I made you breakfast, so don't be rude," he announced, "Your choice of Mr. Styles' classic bacon and eggs, don't worry Haz no one does it better than you." He smirked. "Bec knows the deal. He brings the bacon, you've got the eggs!"

   "Make it stop," groaned Harry, lifting his arm from around my waist, very nearly flashing me. I squeaked and grabbed the blanket as Harry flopped his arm in Louis' general direction. "Go away, Lou."

   "You heard him," I sighed, "Out!" Louis made an offended noise and shuffled out the door, leaving it wide open and in view of the living room. I actually wanted to bury my face in shame. I could see Zayn leaning over the couch giving me the thumbs up and a massive giddy smile. I think I could see Liam's checked shirt on the other side of the sofa, and the back of someone's blonde head. Well no mystery there. We lay for a while more in silence, listening to Louis humming and singing while making breakfast, and the sound of the others talking and the white noise of the television.

   "I think," Harry whispered, moving his head out of my hair to my shoulder, "That was the first time we slept in the same bed without having sex."

   "What do you want, a certificate?" I whispered back and he smirked. "It's your fault...why the hell didn't you have condoms?"

   "I don't know," he grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows, "Maybe I forgot to buy some, hmm?"

   "Funny," I said, rolling my eyes and sitting up slowly, hugging the blanket around me. "You're Harry Styles. You don't not have sex with every woman you see and fancy."

   "That's very true," he said, "But condoms are a whole other thing. Mmm, Bec you should just get on the pill."

   "You have to remember to take it though," I replied, tapping my head, "I'd forget one day and end up pregnant. You ready to be a dad, yet?" Harry snorted into the pillow as I leaned over and grabbed my discarded shirt, pulling it over my head. "And guess what else is your fault? I'm staring to turn into you. I slept naked last night." Harry raised his head and clapped his hands together slowly. I smacked him over the head with the back of my hand. "Don't be such a moody grumbling old man."

   "Old!" he laughed contemptuously, "You're just lucky you're only sixteen."

   “Don’t remind me,” I groaned, “Sixteen! I sound like I’m still a baby.”

   “You are, babe,” he pointed out, sitting up and yawning, before wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me deeply. “Mmm.”

   “Talking about my age,” I continued, as he gazed into my eyes, “I wanna plan something for my seventeeth.”

   “When’s your seventeeth?” he asked, and I made a put out face.

   “Bejesus Haz, I don’t ask you to remember much,” I said mockingly, pretending to be insulted, “Not even my birthday?”

   “Oh come on,” he said rolling his eyes, but I untangled myself from him and crawled out of bed. I walked outside, ruffling my hair, only to realise I was half naked. Returning to the bedroom to find my shorts would mean encountering Harry again, so I brushed it off. The heating was cranked up, bordering stuffy, but at least it stopped me from catching a cold. I waved to Louis, who waved back with his frying pan, sending bits of remaining egg flying over the kitchen counter. I crossed to the couch, curled up next to Zayn, grabbed his bowl of cereal sitting on the table and starting munching on it happily. He made a face at me and started rambling on about stealing food, while I smoothly ignored the stare I could feel from someone across the sofa set.

   “Bec, why don’t you go and steal someone else’s breakfast?” Zayn replied, shaking his head, and looping his arm around my neck; scruffing my hair up lightly with his hand.

   “Hey!” I protested, wriggling out of his grasp and nearly spilling the milk on his crotch. “I’m eating!”

   “The balls on this one,” he sighed, leaning back into the couch and letting it go. Harry came over and sat next to me. “I’m surprised she isn’t stealing your bacon and eggs, Haz.”

   “She’s too upset with me,” he replied brazenly, with a laugh, shovelling a forkful of egg in his mouth, “She’s having a little pouting fit. Holding a bit of a grudge. Look at her! She’s obviously in a pissed mood.”

   “ _This_ one can’t remember my birthday,” I said, giving them all a warning glance, “And you guys better remember it. Or I’ll kill you.”

   “How can we forget?” asked Louis, walking around the couch still sporting his bright red apron, “December 15th!”

   “Lou only remembers that cos his birthday is like a week later,” Zayn replied, but Louis tutted.

   “No Zayn,” he said, “I only remember it cos Bec’s my bestest friend.” He sat down abruptly right between Harry and I, causing us both to groan and shift over slightly. Louis wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, looking up at me with a big grin.

   “Oi Louis,” interrupted Harry, leaning over and squishing Louis into some awkward triple effect hug between the three of us, “I think that I take up that position.”

   “Oh Harry,” sighed Louis, shaking his head into my shoulder as I shovelled another spoonful of cereal into my mouth shakily. “You two are equal.”

   “OK,” said Zayn slowly, “Well, I…uh, everyone’s weirded out by the strange kinky threesome you guys have got going on here. Anyway, I better get going, I’m meeting Megan for lunch soon, I’ll see you guys later.”

   “Me too,” said Niall and I glanced up at him, quickly dropping my gaze and eating some more. “I’m meeting someone. See you lads later, eh? See you, Bec.” He got up without another word and disappeared out the door after Zayn. Hmm. Well that’s the first time that he’s acknowledged me since that awkward encounter yesterday. That still hadn’t been explained. Not that I cared!   

   “This just got awkward fast,” laughed Liam, getting to his feet, and stretching, “Do you guys know who Megan is?”

   “Just another one of Zayn’s lady friends,” replied Louis knowledgably, finally letting go of me and sitting back up. “Gosh Haz, I remember back when it used to be you with all the girls chasing you.”

   “They still do!” Harry shot back defensively, “I just go out less and all. I don’t need too many women harking after me anymore, I’ve got Bec.” I couldn’t help the smile spreading across my face and he leaned over and pinched my cheek again. “Aww sweety.”

   “Cock block!” yelled Louis, jumping up abruptly breaking us apart. He walked back to the adjoining kitchen, taking his apron off. “So Bec, what are you thinking of doing for your birthday?”

   “I don’t know,” I shrugged, “Something fun?”

   “What about a party?” suggested Liam, “At a nice restaurant, just a few people.”

   “How old is she, fifty?” demanded Louis, rolling his eyes, “Come on, let’s do something wild.”

   “A party’s fine,” I replied, “What about at a club?” “You’re not even turning eighteen yet!” “Fine then,” I huffed at Liam, “You five, a few friends and I down at the beach, bonfire rave.”

   “That actually sounds very enticing,” admitted Harry, “Count me in. Though the beaches here suck.”

   “Oh my god, I know I KNOW! Let’s take you to Cabo!” exclaimed Louis, jumping at the idea, his eyes wide, looking beyond excited, “I’ve been dying to go!”

   “Cabo?” I repeated in disbelief, “As in Cabo, _Mexico_?”

   “Where else? You should see the beaches,” he gushed, sliding back onto the sofa, this time not between Harry and I, but next to Liam, “Gorgeous. There’s no chance you won’t get a tan. A week in Cabo, just for your seventeeth!”

   “It’s a bit…grand, isn’t it?” I asked hesitantly, “And expensive?”

   “Pssh, screw expensive,” Louis said immediately, “We can afford top notch everywhere! Come on Bec, we’ll take you out to all the wild clubs and anywhere you can possibly imagine. It’ll be the most amazing thing.”

   “I went once,” said Harry, grinning madly, “I can't count the times I got laid.” I made a disgusted face.

   “Is it safe, Lou?” asked Liam uncertainly as I felt.

   “Don’t be such a party pooper, Liam,” shot back Louis easily, “It’s Cabo, for god’s sake. You can bring Danielle.”

   “It’ll be winter.”

   “There’s no winter in Cabo,” sighed Louis as though he expected everyone to know that. “Bec, I will love you forever if you say yes.”

   “Hey!” said Harry warningly, “Enough with the subtle marriage proposals! She’s mine.”

   “But, you- you know…you’ve got that thing-”

   “SHE’S MINE!” roared Harry in Louis’ ear and he jumped. I howled with laughter, leaning into Harry as he wrapped an arm around me. I loved them. I truly did.

*

   I tucked my hands into the pockets of my cropped black crewneck jacket as I walked through the park, taking in the warm day. It was lovely, compared to the devastating storm the night before. There were a few people in the park having picnics, others going for walks and a few kids playing football.  I had forgotten what a massive gaping hole I had been left with to patch up in my life when the boys left. Not just Harry. All of them. Just two weeks here, and it all felt like it was slowly going back to normal.

   “Mr. Vallesconi’s got the best,” said Liam, taking one hand of his jeans pocket and pointing to one of the stalls that lined the street, “His ice cream is actually amazing. Want one?”

   “Why not?” I replied with a grin, finding it relaxing just to go on a walk with him. We walked up and Liam exchanged brief small talk with Mr. Vallesconi, while he bought a single scoop strawberry for himself, and a double scoop honeycomb-wafer caramel and vanilla bean for me. Liam handed over the money; paid like a gentleman, and we kept walking. 

   “How you finding London, then eh?” he asked, lifting his arms and signalling around him. “Different from back in Aus, I suppose.”

   “Of course,” I said, “The thing is, I never expected that I’d move here. At all, really.”

   “Why?” 

   “It’s not like I _hate_ England,” I replied quickly, “It was always just portrayed to me as being…cold. And wet. I’m a summer person, and cold and wet just depress me.”

   “The _weather_ was the primary turn off for you?” asked Liam in disbelief, taking a lick of his ice cream.

   “Well, yes,” I said defensively, “I wouldn’t want to live in a place which made me sad all the time. But now that I’m here, I figured it’s not that bad.”

   “Mmm,” said Liam agreeably, “I mean just look at today! It’s picturesque really.”

   “So, how are things with Danielle?” I asked curiously, chomping on a fraction of the honeycomb-wafer stick poking out of the top caramel scoop. I glanced at him, and noticed he looked a little uncomfortable. “What?”

   “Everyone thinks we’re going great,” he said flatly, looking straight ahead as we continued walking down the path, past a tall willowy tree which thrust us in a brief moment of shade. 

   “Everyone thinks…” I repeated slowly, “That you’re…? But it’s actually-”

   “Not good,” said Liam shaking his head, before turning spontaneously to me. “You’re a girl, right Bec?”

   “I try,” I responded drily, but he didn’t respond to my humour. 

   “You’d understand what’s wrong?”

   “I don’t know, Li,” I said, “What’s up between you two? Something…did something happen?”

   “It’s like…she doesn’t trust me anymore,” he admitted, turning back around, “She hangs out with her friends more often, when invite her over she just seems bored and she’s just not hanging out much with me and the guys anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

   “Are the guys over when you invite her?”

   “Sometimes. Why?”

   “I don’t know,” I said quickly, because really I didn’t want to become involved in Liam’s love life, “Maybe she feels like she’s been replaced by the boys. A little attention jealousy.”

   “I pay plenty of attention to her!” he protested like a defiant child. “She just turns off from me now. We have sex like once a month.” I winced and avoided grimacing, because I didn’t need to hear about Liam’s sex life either. 

   “OK,” I said, “Well sit her down and ask her. Firmly. Don’t just let her slip past you, don’t act weak.”

   “I’m not weak,” he said, looking peeved, “I just don’t want to come off…forward or pushy.”

   “Liam, you couldn’t be forward or pushy to save your life,” I remarked sarcastically and he pulled a face. I had devoured the first scoop of caramel and moved onto the second scoop of vanilla bean. He was right. That ice cream was _very_ good.

   “I’ll talk to her,” he sighed, “I just don’t want to lose her.”

   “I know,”  I replied, not really having idea what he was talking about. I tried not to sound too bored, but apparently I was a terrible actoe and he could see right through me, because he shot back abruptly, 

   “What, your background knowledge with Niall makes you suddenly superior?”

   I stiffened slightly and stopped walking. Liam walked forward a few steps, sighed then shook his head. 

   “I’m sorry, Bec. That was out of line.”

   “Yeah, it was,” I said with a touch of bitterness in my tone. I sighed, realising that I probably understood Liam’s frustration more than I cared to admit. “Don’t worry about it.”

   “You wanna know what we were talking about yesterday?” he asked, offering me his arm apologetically. I accepted it, wrapping mine through his and we continued on our merry way. 

   “I’m not sure,” I admitted, “There’s part of me that wants to know. And the other part…” I abruptly remembered that Liam might not be the best person to discuss this with. 

   “Yeah?” he prompted encouragingly. I clamped my lips together tightly to prevent anything slipping out that I didn’t want. 

   “Niall just seems to be avoiding me.”

   “He told me…when you sort of-well, walked in during a bad moment,” Liam said carefully. I snorted.

   “Not a bad moment for him,” I corrected, adding with a bit of spite, “Just me. 

   “Oh Bec,” he sighed, taking a thoughtful lick of his ice cream. “I think he was just as embarrassed as you.”

   “I doubt it,” I said, blushing just at the thought of it. “I wasn’t the one who showed up at his door all gushing and happy to see him, only to realise he was in the middle of…the middle of-”

   “Bec?” asked Liam cautiously, “Do you think you’re just a bit…you know, jealous?”

   “Jealous?” I almost spat out as though it was a terrible swear word, “Liam, please. I know he’s your best mate, but don’t flatter him.” Liam smirked but shook his head. I could tell what his subtle question was. 

   Did I still have feelings for Niall? I grinded my teeth in frustration. I didn’t like the idea. That even despite the fact that I had some strange relationship with Harry that involved being best friends and frequently enjoying sex, I might still want Niall. 

   Mostly it pissed me off, because I didn’t know the answer.  

   “Are you upset then? That he’s seeing other people?” 

   “No,” I said carefully, knowing that this would all probably be retold straight to the subject, “I’m not bothered by that, actually. I’m happy for him.”

   “The last time you talked before yesterday was…?” he asked slowly and I fidgeted uncomfortablly, biting a large chunk out of the ice cream. “Bec, you didn’t talk to him at _all_ after he left?”

   “I tried,” I snapped indignantly, “I talked to all five of you, well that is except him. I tried, but he just didn’t reply. So I gave up.”

   “He wants to repair it, you know.”

   “ _What?_ ” I asked in disbelief, “Repair _what?_ ”

   “You two,” he said, “He wants to be your friend.” Oh. Friends. The awkward solution which never worked, from experience. 

   “I want to be his friend too,” I mumbled eventually, which was a truthful as I could. I really did want to be his friend, but I didn’t know if I could. It was the part of me that pushed him away in the first place which would prevent that. I was weak. 

   “Then talk to him,” advised Liam, abruptly changing from the consulted to the consultant. We walked a little way in silence, in which I finished my ice cream while Liam was still licking the scoop complacently, not even reaching the cone yet. “Was it awkward?” I blinked and shrugged.

   “What?”

   “When you saw each other yesterday?”

   “I think we were both so surprised at first, that the awkwardness wasn’t there yet,” I admitted, “We just stood there, staring each other then we were laughing and hugging. We talked, and then he…I- urgh.”

   “Oh,” he said thoughtfully, “Funny. I thought, since it was the first conversation you two had ever since he just stormed out, that it’d be tremendously awkward.”

   “No,” I said. “Not really.” I had a feeling that Niall had probably told him all of this, but I didn’t want to say anything. Maybe if I could twist my words to Liam, I could subtley communicate with Niall through him. Wait, what was I thinking? I had stayed with the boys for just over a day, why was I already planning and plotting against them? I gripped Liam’s arm tighter and leant my head on his shoulder. He was very warm. 

   I squeezed my eyes shut, reminding myself not to overthink things. I used to have a bad habit of doing that, running the things over and over in my head to such an extent that I lost all sight of what I really wanted. 

   But Niall? Truthfully, I didn’t know how I felt about him. I didn’t know what I wanted from him. So I avoided the topic completely.

   “Well, I can’t finish that off,” said Liam, holding out his half eaten cone. I grabbed it and continued eating. “Eeuurgh, Bec. How can Harry even stand you?”

   “He loves me,” I replied, grinning up at Liam.

   “I know he does,” he answered. He opened his mouth, then shut it with a puzzled expression on his face, before adding almost as an afterthought, “Not just as a friend, Bec.”

   “As a best friend, I know,” I sighed, chomping half the remaining ice cream cone in one mouthful. Liam’s silence was strange, but I brushed it off. It almost felt bordered with an uncertainty which always led to complication. I hated complications. 

   Liam stopped when we reached the lake, and we sat down on the bench looking right over it. I began to pull out the bread I had brought along, and ripped it apart to feed to the ducks. It reminded me of home. I caught him staring at me, with a sense of pity. I raised an eyebrow cautiously, and opened my mouth to stop him, because I didn’t want to hear it.  

   “Bec, I think there’s something you should know.”  

 

 


	4. Tell Me A Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eight months back again!   
> wondering what liam had to tell bec? well read on then :]  
> back in sydney, aus where bec is starting to fall for...NIALL? the past is a very confusing thing.   
> enjoy xx

 

_Eight Months Ago:  
_ _March, 2012_

 

  
  
   Liking Niall was far too easy. 

   I found myself falling for him, just for the tiniest of things he did; from the way he walked and dressed, his slightly crooked smile, his contagious laugh, and oh those eyes! Bright blue, and stunning. I liked his hair too. Who was I kidding? I liked everything about him. Every time he spoke, his accent would fill my ears and I’d just grin like a fool.

   He called me the moment I had emerged from the shower that very same night. He’d arrived back at his hotel, which I found odd since I didn’t know that exchange students stayed at hotels. I brushed it off. We met three times together that week, and every time it was more and more crazy. Niall liked taking me to quiet places, and sometimes out in the open where no one would ever find us. Never in public places; which he tended to avoid. I blamed it on his claustrophobia; something we both shared.

   We just went to the local library once, and curled up in a corner with a couple of books, whispering to each other. We eventually got kicked out because I couldn’t stop laughing, but I didn’t care. We had so much fun together. The similarities we had were endless; we both were left-handed and played the right handed guitar, loved music, loved to laugh, always full of hype, and loved food. The latter proved to be a great way to spend nights, sitting in an out of town cinema with what must have been half of the stock in the local Nando’s while watching a movie. We got kicked out of there too, apparently because the smell of chicken and chips was too overwhelming. Some moments I found myself having to sit down and regain my thoughts, because it seemed that my life was moving at such a rapid pace than what I was normally used to.

   That night after the cinema was exactly two weeks after I first had ‘lured’ him into my home, as he claimed. We caught the bus back to my house, but he insisted on walking me home. He took my hand and we began to walk. The night was cool, the slightest of breezes made me shudder.

   “You cold?” he asked, looking at me. Even though he was nineteen and I was just under three years his junior, he was only what- three or four inches taller than me? I liked it.

   “A little,” I admitted, holding myself tighter. He took off his scarf he’d been wearing and stopped, wrapping is around my neck. It was fluffy and surprisingly soft and warm.

   “I’d give you my jacket if I had one,” he said, looking down at his shirt, “And I’d take my shirt off too, but I’m not sure that’s a sight you’re ready to see yet.” I laughed and gripped his hand tighter, continuing on our way.

   “I can’t believe it’s been two weeks already,” I sighed, “How much longer before you leave?”

   “I can’t say,” he said, “Another month and a half, I reckon? Maybe I can convince them to stay if there’s something worth sticking around for.” He smiled at me, but I was confused.

   “You can extend your exchange? Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, “I didn’t know that.” He looked immediately uncomfortable, and tried to back track.

   “Well, it depends,” he mumbled, swinging our hands back and forth slightly, “I might want to stay here. With you.”

   “Fool,” I muttered back, shaking my head and he laughed. A drop of something cold landed on the back of my neck, a tiny bit of uncovered skin by the scarf. I shuddered instantly and lifted my hand to it. “Are you dribbling on me now?”

   “What?” he laughed, taking a step away from me, as a drop of rain landed spot on the tip of his nose. “Eurgh!” I laughed at the clear look of disgust on his face, stood on the tips of my toes and kissed his nose, feeling the tiny droplet pass my lips.

   “There, better?” I asked, and he gave me the cutest smile possible, tugging my hand.

   “Better get you home before it starts pouring again,” he suggested.

   “Yeah, you might trip over a gutter, smash me into tiny bits and go to a random girl’s house for help,” I replied sarcastically, but he pulled me in and kissed me deeply, which caught me completely by surprise. We hadn’t kissed in two weeks. His lips were very soft, and little wet, his hand was on my waist, pulling me into him, the other cupping my face.

   God, he was an amazing kisser. A little clumsy, but it was so sweet, I felt like I had been covered in several layers of honey and sprinkled over with cinnamon. I gripped him back, and that familiar feeling of warmth spreading from my chest to my very fingertips filled me again, even though it was freezing and it was being to rain. I pulled away from the kiss, because a car was passing down the street, it’s lights illuminating us, the windscreen wipers flicking back and forth across the windshield.

   The rain had come hammering down so abruptly, the both of us stood there for a few moments gripping each other like we’d never let go, taking it in, before he began to laugh. I looked at him, slightly taken aback, but he just didn’t stop laughing, no matter what.

   “You’re crazy! Niall!” I cried, spluttering the rain out of my eyes, but he reached down and pulled the back of the scarf up so it protected parts of my face, but not doing much to avoid my hair getting soaked. “It’s raining!”

   “I know!” he said, laughing, grabbing my hand, “Where’s your house, babe? They all look the same from here.” I knew he must have been mad by now or at least sufficiently blind, because all the houses looked completely different.

   “Two blocks away, big blue house,” I said, as I pointed through the sheets of downpour at the street, not so far away.

   “Bear in the big blue house!” he grinned, beginning to sing. I don’t know why, but when he did, an undeterminable shiver ran through me. His voice. It was amazing. “Barney and friends…”

   “Sing some more,” I told him, stopping again, but he laughed at me.

   “You look like a nun!” he cried, and I couldn’t tell whether it was rain on his face, or tears of laughter, “Mother Teresa! Mother Bec!”

   “You’re fucking insane,” I tried to snap, but I couldn’t stay angry at him, because he hugged me and started to chortle into my ear. He must have known I loved his laugh.

   “I’ll sing for you,” he said, leaning out and checking the street. We sprinted across, nearly slipping on the uneven road and the slick surface on soaked concrete. I gripped onto his shirt to avoid falling over and he burst into laughter again.

   “Slow down! If you’re going to strip me, then at least wait til we’re inside!”

   “Idiot!” I yelled, smacking over the head, my heart racing the way it did when he was around, and that unstoppable smile creeping onto my lips.

   “You know you want to,” he said teasingly, taking my hand chivalrously and guiding me down the street at a staggeringly fast pace. “Careful! It’s wet!” I tittered, his giddiness beyond contagious.

   “I can’t go any faster!” I protested, and he swooped down, lifting me in hs arms as I let out a squeak of horror and held on to him so tight, I didn’t believe that his shirt didn’t have permanent creases from where my fingers were gripping it.

   “On we go!” he announced in a loud, faux voice. He sounded like a voice over man for a television show. I couldn’t help the hysterics I was slipping into, and buried my face in his neck. He was warm, and he actually smelt amazing. I could feel the rain trickling down my neck and my back, chilling my to my bone, but somehow, in his arms, I felt so much more safer. I glanced up and realised his mouth was moving. He was singing.

   And it’s dark in a cold December, but I’ve got you to keep me warm   
   If you’re broken, I'll mend you, and keep you sheltered from the storm   
   That’s raging on.

   “Wow,” I whispered, and he looked down at me with a grin, “Your voice.”

   “Head down, unstable girl,” he replied, and continuing singing and humming when he didn’t know the words. I don’t know why, but I started doubling up uncontrollably. He set me down and my head was spinning, but we managed to stumbled up the pathway to my front door. I fumbled for my keys, as he began to take his scarf off me, while I squirmed and giggled.

   “Niall!”

   “What?” I grumbled something inaudible and pushed the door open, as we burst through the threshold, laughter afresh on our lips. I tugged off the scarf he’d been fumbling with and tossed it away, as he pushed the door closed behind me and kissed me deeply again, quenching our momentary lust for each other. I felt my back bump into the wall behind me and his hands trailed to my waist, resting there as he pressed firmly against me. One hand lifted my thigh to his waist and the kiss deepened. I broke apart from the kiss quickly, and grabbed his hand, leading him up the stairs, laughing.

   “N…n- are you sure?” he asked, but I brushed it off.

   “You’ve been here once before,” I replied with a cheeky smile, “Come on, I’ll-” I drew up short at the sight of my sister, Sarah, standing at the top of the stairs, with her mouth gaping open, her eyes bulging. Oh crap. Well I hadn’t expected her to be here.

   “Oh. My. God,” she whispered, then she practically flew down the stairs and wrapped me up in the biggest hug I’d ever gotten from her. I thought my ears were ringing, but it turned out to be her emitting a long continuous scream into my ear. “You are the most amazing sister in the entire fucking universe! I’ll never do shit to you again! I LOVE YOU.”

   “I-” I stammered uncertainly, not sure what caused her spontaneous turn of feelings for me. “Sarah, what…?” I pulled away and looked at Niall behind me who looked in fact, a little terrified of my sister.

   “I can’t b-believe that you…oh my god, how did you..?” she said, flapping her arms around everywhere like she was pyscho, “GEH! You could have warned me! I would have looked more decent!”

   “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

   “There’s my number one,” she said in a flirty tone to Niall as though she somehow knew him, who looked merely bemused. She winked and I felt instantly defensive. “Where are the other four?”

   “Crap,” I heard him mutter behind me and I glanced at him expectantly, but his gaze was reverted somewhere else.

   “Sarah, what the hell are you going on about?” I said, holding her still before she exploded and rocketed off the walls in a very different type of hysteria I was in a few minutes before.

   “Am I being punk’d?” she giggled, looking around, “Where are the cameras?”

   “Calm the fuck down!” I yelled, “What the shit’s wrong with you?”

   “One Direction!” she screamed, jumping up and down like a fan girl just at the mention of their name. I blinked in confusion. Sure, I knew she was completely obssessed with them, but why on earth was she screaming at them now? When she had just seen me and… “Where’s Zayn, Louis, Harry and Liam?” I had no bloody idea who those guys were, but apparently the remaining fifth of the boy band that I had never paid attention to before was standing behind me on our stairs. I turned around slowly, and Niall was looking uncomfortable as before.

   “Tell me she’s just going mad.”

   “Bec-” he began, trying to take my hand, but I dodged out of the way and took another step away from him.

   “Don’t,” I hissed, “Touch me. Who the fuck are you?” There was a long silence as he stared into my eyes. Sarah began to laugh nervously, her gaze darting between the both of us.

   “Bec?” she said with a shaky laugh, in a squeaky voice, “It’s Niall. Horan. From One Direction. The cute Irish one I was telling you about?” It was beginning to make sense now.

   “I’m sorry, Bec,” he said, “I really wanted to tell you. I just couldn’t work out how to.” He didn’t know how to? He could have said it the first time we’d fucking met!

   “You didn’t know who he was?” interrupted Sarah in a high-pitched voice, “Then if I’m not being punk’d and the rest of 1D aren’t here…” She looked at us in shock. “Bec, what’s…”

   “I don’t know!” I yelled, throwing my hands in the air in frustration, “I don’t know anything anymore, apparently!” I ran up the remaining stairs and threw the door to my room open. I could hear my sister and Niall calling my name, but I locked the door behind me and threw myself onto my bed, yelling myself hoarse into my sheets.

*

   "Bec? Can I come in?" I heard Sarah at my door, continuously knocking as she talked. It was a bad habit. I didn't reply, just buried my face further into my blanket. "He's gone." Why did that not make me feel better the slightest? "Bec, please, you've got to talk to me. Or someone. Or to him. He's sorry."  
   "Fuck off, Sarah," I snapped, raising my head and giving the finger, even though the door was closed and she couldn't tell.   
   "Fuck you too, Bec," I heard her snap back, but she kept pounding on my door reptitively, "Open up!"  
   "No!" I yelled, "I don't want to talk to anyone! Especially you with you're fucking boy band love!"  
   "Look!" she yelled back, "It's not my fault that you don't even pay attention to these things! You've been living with me through this entire One Direction phase and never paid attention _once_ so maybe if you had, you wouldn't have met one of them and decided you'd like to screw them without knowing who they are!"  
   "It's not my fucking fault! And I wasn't going to screw anyone!" I shrieked, burying my face in my sheets again, feeling so angry I could probably rip apart anything I set my mind to.   
   "You're like a fucking groupie!" she yelled back, "What the hell were you doing then, dragging him up the stairs to see the view from your bedroom window? You're so un-bloody-believable Bec!" I heard her turn and storm away and I let out a pitiful moan, not wanting to cry but not seeing many other options.  
   The chime of my phone made me start, and I raised my head to see it lying at the end of my bed, the notification light blinking green. Unsure, I reached out and picked it up gently. I unlocked the screen, reminding myself to change my password pattern from an 'N' to something else. It was a text message, not wholly sure that it was what I wanted to read, but Sarah was right; I couldn't avoid him forever.

 

   niall-h. says:   wait.

 

   Was that all he could come up with? What a waste of time and credit. I was just about to hurl my phone at the wall when it beeped again and another message appeared on my screen.

 

   niall-h. says:  
   S tupid - i know i was  
   O bviously - i should have said something  
   R ight - that u should b angry wth m  
   R ight - u'd know this is a pretty shitty poem  
   Y ou know i never meant to hurt u

 

   I didn't know whether to cry or to laugh, so I stared at the screen expectantly for another message to appear. Finally, the last one did.

 

   niall-h. says:   lego house- ed sheeran.

 

   I looked at it, slightly confused. I opened up a youtube browser and typed in the same words in his message into the search bar. A song opened and I instantly recognised it. How couldn't I? And he must have known I was in a wreck, because it made me cry for the first time in a very long time.

   It was the song he sung to me.

 

  
  


	5. Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to the present!   
> you'll be glad to know at the end of the last and this chapter, bec's pissed as hell at niall either way. so win win for every one on team niall :D  
> brief flashback which lets up a little on what the past might be hiding from her...  
> enjoy xx

 

  

_Present Day  
_ _November, 2012_

 

 

   Studying at London University wasn’t all hot British boys, indie music and hanging out in hip cafés during breaks. However, for me it was. I was staying in the uni housing, mostly because the further away I lived, the further away I knew I’d have to travel, and consequentially the early I’d have to wake up. I was definitely not a morning person.

   At half eight, I dragged myself out of bed at the sound of my room mates Jemima and Tian leaving. Damn them, they both were taking architecture courses so they always got an early morning break in before their first lecture. It confused me why they were always up before me, since I had a lecture right at quarter to nine.

   It took me months and months of mental and emotional breakdowns, physical illness and constant panic attacks to get me into London University. It was the most painful experience of my life, until I got here. The lecturers seemed to take the entire tertiary education to an entirely different level here. And doing a combined degree in international studies and law made it worse.

   I cursed the mind thought that I’d be able to cope with this as I merely threw a grey hoodie over my black singlet and sweats, drew the hood over my head to cover my nest of hair and tired eyes.

   I stumbled to my working desk and grabbed my canvas bag, shoved half the stuff off my desk into there, picked up my laptop and textbooks and strolled out the door, humming to myself sleepily. That took about five minutes at max, leaving me another ten to wander around campus until I arrived at my lecture hall. I picked my wallet off the kitchen bench, checking my ten dollar note was still in there, then stuffed it in my bag and headed out the door. I shut it behind me, before crossing to the flight of stairs right opposite.

   From the concrete balcony on my floor, I could see out on the sprawling green grass. It was cloudy, but wasn’t it always here? I hummed to myself as I hopped down the steps, nearly colliding with Rufus Decker, who I nearly ran into every morning on these steps. He was out of breath, jogging over excitedly on the spot, returning from his morning run as usual.

   “Ack! Sorry there, Bec,” he said, sweeping his over long fringe out of his eyes. To be honest, if he just got a hair cut, Rufus wouldn’t be the worst looking guy on campus. But donning his daily morning wear of super tight white bike shorts, lime green lycra tank top, sweating more than what most pigs sweat in their lifetime, he wasn’t exactly considered to be hot stuff around here.

   “It’s alright, Roofie, on your way,” I sighed, waving him on, and I heard him panting as he continued jumping up the stairs. He disappreciated my nickname for him, saying it always made him sound like he’d date rape anyone he saw, which was the reason why he never pulled any girls. I didn’t have the heart or breath to tell him that I didn’t think that it was just me.

   I finally reached the bottom and spun around the pole to walk towards the green, but stopped quickly on the way there, at the tiny café that sat tucked away on the edge of housing block D. I handed over my ten dollar bill, exchanging for a few coins, a warm pastry filled with apples that made my head spin from the intoxicating smell, and not to mention the cup of warm coffee that I could already feel hyping me up just by breathing it in.

   I then continued towards the oval, where a few people were already sitting around and studying, while the usual I’m-on-a-sports-scholarship-bitch-please type were kicking a football around. I strolled across and waved to them. They waved back happily, and James, one of the football scholarship sporties yelled,

   “Alright there, Bec?”

   James Logan was in my lecture sometimes, he flitted in and out like a rich, famous kid who could afford to miss class. He was a little up himself, but that came with being naturally talented at sport, not to mention, extremely fit.

   “Not bad,” I called back, “Keep your eye on the ball, Logan.”

   “As much as you keep your eye on that boy band of yours, Lowthorne!” he crowed with a laugh.

   I sighed but shook my head with a smile, waving him off as I hurried through their game. It was common knowledge to most people who knew me that I was in with One Direction, but others who didn’t know me, didn’t really seem to care; something I was very grateful for.

   They were too busy winning Nobel Prizes, Young Inventor of the Year, making breakthroughs and digging in the Nile Valley to care that a first year undergraduate knew a flimsy boy band.

   I could see the newly renovated blocks of buildings looming, knowing that I’d still have to walk some way to reach the Law department, which took up the general space of about four smaller departments.

   Signs were going up around the campus for O-Week, where the uni would open its doors to the public to display the great progress and success it had achieved within a year. Usually the student union jumped at the opportunity to set up stalls to advertise the work of groups and societies.

   “Rebecca?” I looked around and saw Mr. Yager, my lecturer walking behind me. Well at least I knew I wasn’t going to be late.

   “Bec, sir,” I said at once, “You can call me Bec.” I know it was no use telling him, he never remembered anyway.

   “Yes…yes, Bec,” he muttered to himself and began to walk alongside me, “May I be a tiny bit prudent?” Normally, I’d have no idea what prudent meant, but in the first week of my arrival I was struggling so badly, that Mr. Yager just set me the assignment of reading the entire dictionary. I didn’t think it’d be that bad, until I realised he meant the entire dictionary; the shelves and shelves of books thicker than my head stored underground in the biggest library in the UK.

   “Certainly,” I replied, feeling a little pleased with myself, though hoping he wouldn’t shoot out anymore funny words, because I wasn’t ready to think that hard this early in the morning.

   “Are those your bed clothes?” he asked, signalling to my outfit.

   “Pyjamas, you mean?” I asked, with a raised eyebrow. He looked for a second that I almost thought he hadn’t heard me before nodding and saying,

   “If you will call them that, yes.”

   “Yeah,” I said, “They are. I don’t have much time to change in the morning, I just roll out of bed and get down here.”

   “And is that coffee?” he inquired, pointing at my cup accusingly with one finger.

   “Yes,” I said defensively, holding it ever so slightly further away from him, “And my brain’s fine sir, caffeine won’t damage my mental retention when I can’t retain anything to begin with.”

   He tutted, mumbling something about self deprication which was good because it was practically inaudible and I didn’t know what self deprication was.

   We arrived at the lecture hall and entered together. I was humming again, some song I can’t quite remember. It was a four bar melody which I just couldn’t place. The lecture hall was grand to say the least. The ceiling easily cleared twenty feet, it was like a small amphiteatre, the walls and floor painted a dramatic black, with lights to illuminate the front of the room, affectionately nicknamed ‘the Stage’. A few blackboards lined it, since Mr. Yager was a little old fashioned, plus a small library of his own and a smart board- jokingly the most advanced piece of technology in the building.

   Upstairs was sector 2 of the Law department, of which he told us proudly he was running. I had never been up there before. The seats at the front of the class were low, and as the rows filled towards the back, they became elevated so they had a clear view of the lecturer. There were perhaps seventy students, sparsely covering the array of desks and chairs. This hall was meant to sit close to two hundred. I hummed and walked away, letting the door swing shut behind me. I took a sit about half way up the rows and sat down, setting my things down just as Mr. Yager took his spot at the front of the hall and started the lesson.

   By the time we finished and were dismissed, it was nearing midday. I know I had Advanced Literature studies in the afternoon, so I decided I’d hit the city for some lunch. Since I was still wearing my ‘bed clothes’, I made a quick stop back at housing block D to change in a pair of pale pink skinny jeans, a floaty white button down and a black leather jacket. I ran into Tian on the way to her lecture.

   “You’re finally up?” she asked jokingly and I smiled.

   “Just. You on to your lecture now?”

   “Yeah, lucky you, you get your break near lunch time! I have to have brunch every week,” she complained, before saying quickly, “By the way, Jem and I and a few other undergrads are hitting the pub at eight, you wanna come along?”

   “The pub? Why not,” I replied, “Though I’m not allowed to drink, I’ll come along.”

   “Ahh,” she said knowingly, patting my head even though I was taller than her, “That’s right, young one. Anyway, we’re meeting at gate 6 at 7:30, so be there!” She walked off, her auburn corkscrews bouncing up and down as she moved on.

*

   “You look nice,” I said to Tian, who smiled back at me and replied with a very British sounding,

   “Not like you can talk. You look great in everything, Bec. Even those sweats you wear to your lectures every morning. They’re just about as famous as anything around campus.”

   “Oh, well that’s embarrassing,” I said, genuinely a little shamed. My pyjamas were famous? Fantastic. I looked around, and saw a few other girls, along with Jemima. “Just girls?”

   “Nah,” she replied with her cockney accent, “Where would all the fun be? Jem’s bringing her boyfriend, and James Logan and a few of his mates said they’d be meeting us there.”

   “James Logan?” I repeated, “Ha! Say his name again, Ti. Make the light bursting in your eyes more obvious.” I laughed as she gaped at me and smacked my arm.

   “Bec!” she gasped, “I don’t like James Logan.”

   “That’s why you’re saying his full name all the time and can’t stop thinking or talking about him,” I giggled, “Come on. He’s a prick.”

   “Yes,” she sighed, “But a super fit prick, so what does it even matter?” I saw Jem run to a guy about two inches shorter than her, which didn’t help since she was wearing steep little stilletoes. He looked a little weedy but decent looking enough. They hugged tightly.

   “Is that Jem’s boyfriend?” I whispered to Tian and she nodded.

   “Pete,” she answered, “He’s a little short of her standard, eh?” She nudged me and I laughed. Our party of about ten left out the gate and started down the street. It was dark out already, the street lights illuminating the street. I was talking to Jem and Pete when my phone chimed.

   “Sorry,” I apologised, fishing around for it in my purse. I fished it out and unlocked it. I needed to change my unlock pattern from an ‘N’ to something else. Distracted, I hardly paid attention to the message on the screen.

  

   niall-h says: DUN’T SAY ENYTHNG IF U CE HEM- LIAM.

 

   I stared in confusion at my phone, wondering what it meant. It was clear that the only correctly spelt word was his name, but I didn’t know why he’d be texting from Niall’s phone. Not bothered to interpret the terrible spelling errors, I tucked the phone away as we arrived at the pub. A faded sign that read TAVERNA sat just above the door and we entered. It was a typical pub inside. There was a wooden bar with old fat Irish-pub bartenders, glasses hanging from the ceiling. The chairs were made of wood too, it seemed most of the pub was made from it. It was illuminated by several old light bulbs, buzzing with people already.

   It was a cosy pub, and I didn’t mind cosy, so it was fine for me. Jem and Pete went off, probably to make out in a corner with a couple of vodkas. I glanced around, hoping no one would notice me, before making a beeline towards the bar. I felt Tian’s hand grab mine immediately as I stopped just short of it.

   “…hi,” I said, with an innocent smile.

   “Trying to sneak a sip in, underagey?” she asked with a grin, “Nice try, but you don’t even have an ID.”

   “Yeah, but-” I started, but she reached over and ordered me a beer, showing her ID. She smiled at me and placed it delicately in my hand. I looked at in surprise, then smiled back. “Thanks, Ti.”

   “This never happened,” she said in confidence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She winked then walked off to find someone to talk to, just as I saw James Logan, dressed in jeans and his college varsity jacket, approaching the bar. I never said it, but he reminded me of the way Zayn dressed. I waved him over, happy to have someone I could talk to.

   “Hey, Bec,” he said, placing his hand on my back gently as he slid into the seat next to me.

   “Hi, Logan,” I replied. “You can call me James, you know,” he said, ordering a beer as well, before nodding at my drink in hand, “Are you legal?”

   “Meh,” I shrugged, “Will be in a month. Who can tell anyway?”

   “Nice,” he laughed, “Who bought your drink for you then?”

   “Tian,” I said, remembering her obvious favouring for him, “The hot one with the corkscrew curls?” He scrunched up his face, as if trying to place the name, or the image I had given him. He shook his head. I looked over through the crowd to seek her out, and saw the top of her head bopping up and down. “There she is!”

   “Oh,” he said immediately, “Yeah, of course I know her. Big boobs?” He smirked as I retched.

   “Yeah that’s her,” I said, wiping my mouth, “But please, Logan, don’t hold back in your offer to buy me my next drink.”

   “Why not?” he answered, turning to me in his seat, “But you have to let me buy you something wild this time.”

   “Wild?”

   “Two Black Delilahs, please,” he said to the bartender who instantly started pouring a random mixture of expensive looking wine and alochol into small glasses. Two shot glasses were pushed infront of us. I looked suspiciously at the drink, feeling much safer with the beer I was holding.

   “What is that?”

   “Cherry liquor, white wine, double vodka,” he said, grabbing his and downing it in one. He threw his head back and let out a deep groan as he set it down again. “Whoa…”

   “I’m not drinking that,” I said with a laugh, “This is my first drink. Ever.” I held up the beer and he made a face at me.

   “You can’t be serious.”

   “Deadly.”

   “You might as well make it grand, then,” he said, taking the beer from me and setting it aside. He handed me the Black Delilah, swishing around in its glass. “Drink!”

   “No!” I protested, “I won’t drink it unless you force it down my throat.”

   “Don’t ask for it,” he muttered, “Come on, Bec, don’t be a wuss.” Well, that was something I wasn’t going to stand for.

   “Fuck you, James Logan,” I mumbled, tipping my head back and downing the contents of the glass in one go. I felt it slide down my throat, leaving a raw burning sensation that made me gasp and my eyes water. I set the glass down, my head spinning, feeling like my tongue had been split into two. “Shit!” He was laughing out loud, gripping me to hold me upright.

   “Funniest shit ever!” he guffawed, “Hey, do another shot with me, Bec! We’re going to have a blast.”

   “No,” I groaned, pushing him off me, “Not another one.”

   “One last one,” he said, handing it to me. I didn’t know why, but I felt myself being compelled to drink the burning liquid. I spluttered and set it down again, feeling like I was burning up.

   “That’s it!” I said in a loud voice, “I’m out!” I tried to rise to my feet but stumbled a little. I felt him catch me and laugh.

   “God, you’re tipsy and you’ve only had two shots,” he chortled, “This really is your first time.”

   “I’ve heard that before,” I muttered into his jacket and I heard him laugh again. I just wanted to get away from him, because in this state, I knew practically anything was possible. “I’m going to the toilet.”

   “You gonna hurl?”

   “No, I needa piss,” I replied, wrenching myself from his protective hold and walking unevenly in my black pumps towards the toilet. I washed my face in the sink; my cheeks were a little rosy but the look in my eyes reflected something along the lines of ‘having the best fucking time of my life’. Urgh. James Logan was right, two shots and I was tipsy? How fucking pathetic was I? I walked back out, feeling slightly clearer but still stuck in an unsettling daze, and resumed my place at the bar. He had disappeared for now, but I had a feeling that he’d find me and be back soon.

   No sooner had I looked over from my spot at the bar, then the door at the other end of the pub opened and I saw the last person I wanted here.

   It was Niall and Louis; affectionately known as Nouis, entering the Taverna at exactly the same time as I was in it. It was instinct to run away, but I couldn’t think of a decent excuse to get me out, and everyone would know I knew them anyway. Plus, me stumbling through London streets at night completely bonkers wasn’t safe either. I turned around, praying they wouldn’t recognise me, but I heard Louis’ voice almost straightaway.

   “BEC?” I glanced over my shoulder. The few people surrounding them were looking at the duo strangely, because they recognised them. Who wouldn’t, really? Louis waved and Niall looked instantly uncomfortable. He always did when I was around. It made me feel bad, but then again I felt just as uncomfortable around him as he was around me. The two of them walked over and I could immediately see Louis’ concern on his face.

   “Bec, are you…are you drunk?” he asked, looking at the beer in my hand, that I had picked up from the bar where I left it. “On beer?”

   “Nah, I’m not drunk,” I said with a tipsy grin, “I had two black Delilah shots though.”

   “Black Delilahs?” he said, sitting next to me, “Two of them? You’re crazy, Bec! How did you even get them, you’re underage!”

   “I have friends,” I replied defensively. I looked at Niall who was standing there, looking at me.

   “You should go home, Bec,” he said finally when I stared at him for long enough.

   “You should go home too,” I snapped, giving him the finger before laughing loudly and cruelly.

   “Bec,” hissed Louis, grabbing my hand, “Calm the fuck down.”

   “No,” I spat, taking my hand from his, “No, you calm the fuck down, Louis Tomlinson!” I jumped up from the bar and staggered over immediately, but luckily Niall was there because he caught me. Hmm. Well I could tell for sure now he’d definitely been working out recently. I pushed myself off him, feeling a mixture of frustration and repulsion.

   “What’s going on?” I heard James say as he approached us. “Who are you pricks?” Both Louis and Niall were shorter than him, but Louis stepped right up and jabbed his finger in James’ chest like a girl.

   “I don’t think we’re the pricks here,” he snarled, “Are you the one who gave Bec the Black Delilahs?”

   “So what if I did?” sneered James in his face, obviously feeling superior due to build and height. “She willingly took them.”

   “You know she’s under age? You know that’s fucking illegal?”

   “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” James demanded, pushing Louis back. He stumbled slightly but regained his balance. “A gay Popeye?” He laughed at Louis in the face. It occurred to me that James Logan could easily batter Louis Tomlinson to a pulp without breaking a sweat.

   “You got her drunk! What the fuck were you gonna do with her after that?” Louis snapped. I instantly flushed in embarrassment at what he was suggesting. If possible, it made me even angrier.

   “I’m not drunk!” I screamed, pushing my way through the crowd and bursting out into the street. I walked slowly towards the nearest bench and sat down, holding my head between my hands. The cool night breeze whipped through my leather jacket, easily passing through my sheer white button down. I let out a groan as I heard the door of the bar opening. Slowly. How refreshing.

   “Bec?”

   “Aw, fuck me,” I murmured under my breath, shifting over the bench. I heard his footsteps approach, the sound of his Supra’s hitting the cement. It was a noise that was all too familiar to me. I felt the bench move as he sat down next to me.

   “Are you alright?” What a fucking dumb question. I didn’t reply. “Sorry, that was a stupid question.” That’s one thing you got right, dumbass. I closed my eyes, wanting to fall asleep. I felt myself slowly leaning over to one side and his arms encased me, keeping me just upright.

   “Hey, hey,” he said softly, propping me back up, before I leant over again, this time falling on to him, my head resting on his shoulder. It was so comfy there. “Don’t mind Louis. He picks a fight where ever he wants it.” I could hear the unnerved note in his voice and jerked my way out of his arms, which was too easy.

   “I don’t give a shit about Louis,” I snapped, “He’s probably getting smashed up in there. And it’s his own fucking fault.”

   “Bec,” he said, “You shouldn’t drink too much. You’re only sixteen, and-”

   “Who cares?” I demanded, finally raising my head and looking Niall right in those piercing blue eyes. I felt tears welling up instantly in my own. “I’ve never been drunk before, I…I just wanna let something else take control for a while.” He looked at me, then looked away."

   “Never been drunk?” he repeated quietly.

   I immediately knew what he meant, how could I not? I could still hear him yelling.

  
   _“What the fuck do you think you were doing, Bec?”_

_“I wasn’t thinking!” I protested weakly, because I knew no matter what I said now, I couldn’t go back and undo it. “I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me…”_

_“I don’t give a shit!” he yelled, “Do I look like I care who kissed who? I don’t care! You still did it, didn’t you? When I was asleep, didn’t you? In the same fucking room didn’t you?”_

_“We weren’t-”_

_“Don’t defend him,” he snapped, “Why are you defending him? You’ve always looked at him differently. I just thought it was disgusted interest. You kept on saying that you never found him attractive or anything, what a lie that turned out to be!”_

_“I-I don’t, Niall,” I stammered weakly, “You can’t just say that, I wasn’t- he wasn’t…we were-”_

_“What?” he demanded, “Were you drunk, hmm? Funny, I don’t remember him knocking back a single glass that night, nor you.”_

_“We weren’t drunk,” I whispered._

     
   I couldn’t take it. In this state, it made the confusion, the anger, the passion inside of me burn even more intensely. I started sobbing and he looked at me in alarm.

   “Bec, I didn’t mean to-”

   “Oh god,” I sobbed, clutching my face into my jacket, knowing all my eyeliner and mascara would probably smudge. Fuck that. “Oh fuck this…”

   “Niall, Bec!” I heard Louis yell as he emerged from the pub. I was weeping too loudly to notice. “We’re going, let’s go Niall!”

   “What?” he said, sounding taken aback, “But what about Bec?”

   “Bring her along, you ponce!” I heard him snap, coming closer. I looked and Niall was standing there, uncertainty etched on his handsome face.

   “Bec, come on, I’ll help you up,” he said gently, offering his hand chivalrously.

   “If you touch me, I’ll punch your face in,” I snapped and buried my face back in my jacket again.

   “Leave her alone.” I peeked out of my jacket at Louis who was crouching infront of me with such a painstakingly calm expression on his face, that I almost jumped on him in a desperate attempt to cling on normality.

   “Bec,” he said softly, “Tell me what’s wrong, babe.” Normally, I’d go to Liam for help because he was always the easiest to cry to, since he exuded paternal comfort. But right in that moment, Louis would do. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. I felt his warm arms envelope me in his soapy scent. I felt him carry me gently off the bench, and into a taxi cab, where I leant against the window and where I remembered seeing the lights of the city flickering in my eyes.

 

 

 


	6. Another World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOO... :)  
> just a warning kiddies the next chapter gets a little graphic, but in a super clean sort of way! don't be disappointed however, there's plenty of smutty stuff coming up.  
> flashback eight months, and things become just a tiny more complicated and easier to stuff up  
> enjoy xx

 

 

_Eight Months Ago:  
_ _late March, 2012_

 

 

   There were several things to consider, I thought, as I hung up again and rolled over onto my back. The first was that it had been exactly three days since Niall’s last text; three very long days. I caught myself flicking through his previous messages as though it might coax another one out of him. It occurred to me that he’d only be here for another month or so.

   The second was that he could possibly be out chasing another easy girl, and didn’t give a dog’s arse about me anymore. Chase was the wrong word, he clearly didn’t need to chase down anyone because it was rather the opposite. That led me on to my final point.

   I think, despite myself, I was beginning to like One Direction. My initial anger at Niall ebbed away into curiosity and I googled them. I watched their newest music video 57 times in a row, and downloaded their album onto my iPod. I had an album titled ONE-D on my computer filled with saved images of them off the interent. It was surreal to see him there; handsome, blonde, smiling, funny and famous.

   It was strange to think that the whole world knew him before I did, that the ‘Directioners’, to what the fans dubbed themselves, knew every single detail of his life without never having met him. The other members of his band were attractive to on closer observation, but none of them caught my eye like he did. I found the town where he was from; Mullingar, Westmeath, Ireland. I looked up his Twitter account after making an account of my own. He had 2.6 million followers. I watched some Youtube interviews, remembering thinking to myself what sort of rock I had been living under.

   Sarah was right, I grudgingly admitted, to some extent. It was my fault that I hadn’t been paying attention, I had a Directioner right in the house, so the thought of me going out with Niall from One Direction without even realising it made me appear stupid. It was Day Four exempt from contact with Niall, a Saturday morning, I spent on my bed, rolling around on it as I called him, before hanging up quickly as my mind went into overdrive and I gave up. This had been the same deal for about the last hour. My parents were out at work, and I could hear Sarah jumping around in her room next door. The noise was distracting.

   I sighed, rolled back onto my stomach and hit my contacts bar, scrolling down to N to find niall-h. The thumb wavered over the call button and eventually hit it. The call screen popped up and the buzzing of the call started. Panicking, I quickly hit the end call button, before burying my head in my bed and groaning in frustration. I was most definitely not a first-move maker.

   “Just call him.” The sound of Sarah’s voice started me and I scowled in return and she smirked and walked past my door. I was just about to try again when my phone chimed with a message. Oh god.

 

   niall-h says: hey there.

 

   Screw that, I thought, my fingers jumping to life on my keypad.

 

   beccx says: nialljameshoran 13/9/93. mullingar. one/five of 1d.

 

   I sat up, abruptly determined. I scoured the internet until I managed to deduce where they were staying. I grabbed my jacket, climbed off my bed and slipped into my oxford flats.

   “You going out?” Sarah said with a smirk, “Don’t be back too late. Don’t rush, either.”

   “Sure,” I said stiffly, brushing past her, and walking down the stairs towards the door, before remembering how much she had helped, even though she was just my bitchy sister. “Hey Sarah?”

   “Mm?” she replied, poking her head of her room.

   “Thanks,” I said letting out a deep breath, “For…everything.”

   “No problem,” she said with what I think was a smile, “Be safe, groupie.”

*

   The first time I knocked on Niall Horan’s door was very much different from the next time I would do it. But this time; the very first time, I stood there, feeling nervous, wondering if I was even in the right place. The swung open and for a moment, a pair of confused blue eyes stared right in mine. My breath hitched in my throat again as it always did when I saw him.

   “Hi,” I breathed, “Oh…hi.” I didn’t know what else to say, alright?

   “Y-you’re here!” he exclaimed, and drew me into a shaky hug immediately. Oh my god. I hadn’t realised how much I missed him holding me. He was wearing a soft blue hoodie which smelt like he always did; wood and unwashed clothes, which was surprisingly comfy. “H-how did you find me?”

   “I fished around,” I laughed shakily, “I’m sorry about the other night…I wasn’t thinking straight, I should have let you explain.”

   “No,” he said, taking his hands in mine, “No, it was wrong of me to try lie to you. I should have been honest, really, especially with something so-”

   “Nialler?” I heard someone, a guy with a British accent, call from inside, “Who is it? What’s up?” A guy appeared right behind him, about three inches taller with thick hair and large eyes. He blinked at me over Niall’s shoulder with chocolate brown eyes.

   “Niall, who’s this?” he asked, his voice deep. I felt instantly more nervous than before, and a little self conscious. As though he could tell, Niall took my hand and led me in through the door to what looked like another double loft. It must have belonged to One Direction while they stayed there. Which meant…that deep-voiced guy, he looked familiar, but I still didn’t know his name.

   “Will you meet the boys?” he asked me and I nodded. He led me into the main dining room with an adjoining kitchen at the end of the hallway of rooms where three boys were sprawled out on the couch sets, to be followed by the guy with the deep voice. “Guys? This is Bec.” The four of them gaped at me like I was some sort of foreign alien. There was the one with darker hair and smouldering look on his face, another with side swept hair and a sharper nose, the deep voiced guy, and at last the one with curly thick hair and bright green eyes. It didn’t matter what they normally looked like. All their faces were etched in shock as they glanced between Niall and I, and our hands entwined together. I gripped him tighter for reassurance and he squeezed back.

   “Bec, this is Zayn, Louis, Liam and Harry.” He pointed at each of the guys in the order I had observed them in. I nodded at them awkwardly. “Hi,” I squeaked, “Wow. It’s pretty overwhelming to meet you guys.”

   “Are you two…Niall was talking about you the other day, I think,” said Zayn, climbing over the sofa and wrapping me abruptly in a hug. “Nice job, Nialler. You were right, she’s fi-ine.” I laughed and Niall made a face at him.

   “You understand what that means?” he asked me, “I didn’t understand what that meant. Who says that?”

   “Uh, I do,” replied Zayn, waving the rest of them over, “Come on guys, she won’t bite.”

   “I’m Louis,” said the one with the side swept hair and the sharp nose and he smiled. He looked like he’d be cocky, but he seemed relatively nice…so far. “You trying to drag our Niall away from us?” Urgh. The way he said it, with bite and malice. It nearly made me flinch.

   “She’s not taking me anywhere,” Niall laughed off, wrapping his arm around my waist and I felt momentarily empowered as Louis didn’t smile this time.

   “Can’t promise that,” I replied, kissing him on the cheek.

   “Eck, soppy,” Louis said, backing off, “Sorry, but why do you need to do that? Do people really have to exchange DNA in front of other people who might mind?”

   “Don’t mind Louis,” mumbled Niall into my ear, “He’s just a moody that his girlfriend’s not here.”

   “I don’t mind,” said the deep voiced guy, “Liam. You make Niall here a very temperamental person.”

   “Do I?” I asked in a breathy voice, looking at him in surprise and he looked embarrassed.

   “Don’t overdo it, Li,” he said, “Exaggeration’s his thing.”

   “Oh, my thing?” Liam laughed, “He was hanging on for four days to his phone and kept jumping around this morning. You were texting him?”

   “Uh, not exactly,” I said, looking away to avoid returning anyone’s gaze.

   “You forgot me,” said another voice, and I looked up to meet bright green eyes with the curly haired guy. He didn’t take his eyes of mine as he took my hand and shook it. His fingertips trailed over my palm as he let go. “I’m Harry.” His stare left me uncomfortable, and I recalled from my research that most girls preferred him. I couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t even that attractive, sure he had dimples like me, but his hair was annoying and I felt like jumping him with a straightener. Something about him pissed me off.

   “Hi,” I said, “Well, it was nice meeting all of you.”

   “What, you leaving already?” asked Zayn, looking disappointed, but Louis on the other hand muttered,

   “Don’t let us stop you.”

   “Stick around!” suggested Liam, “We were about to watch a movie anyway, weren’t we?”

   “Oooh,” I said quickly, walking over to look at the television screen, “What movie? X-Men First Class? What, best movie ever!”

   “We haven’t watched it yet,” said Louis, sliding over the sofa top on the seat, “Don’t ruin it.”

   “I won’t,” I replied, “Maybe I should go.”

   “Niall wants you to stay,” said Harry and shot me a look through those intense eyes, “Don’t you Niall?” His stare lingered longer than normal, before turning to Niall. He nodded and said,

   “Come on, hang around a bit. You’ll have fun.” He finished with a cheeky smile that made me melt.

   “Alright then,” I said and I sat down on the couch next to Louis who immediately moved to the other end. What a prick.

*

   “Don’t forget to bring her along!” I told Zayn, pointing to Rebecca Ferguson who sat beside him. She was beautiful, no denying it, and Zayn seemed happy enough, so why not endorse her relationship with him while it lasted? She smiled and waved as Niall took my hand and we waltzed off.

   “They’re quite cute together,” I commented harmlessly and he grinned at me.

   “You know it won’t last,” he said realistically, “But yeah, Rebecca’s real nice. See now, we all have to call you Bec, even Louis, or we’ll get confused.”

   “Drinks at the bar tomorrow are fine, right?” I asked him and he rolled his eyes.

   “Fine for me,” he scoffed, “Not you. You’re not going near those drinks, I’m not having a drunk sixteen year old on my hands.”

   “Pfft,” I replied, “Please, babe, a drunk sixteen year old is exactly what you want on your hands.”

   “Only if it’s you,” he said, always knowing the right thing to say, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my on the forehead, “Lunch with those two was nice, but now we have the whole day to ourselves.”

   “Mhmm,” I said, holding mine around his neck, “So, where shall we go? I feel like having fun.”

   “I know!” he exclaimed, “I’ll take you to that amusement park you have here!”

   “Luna Park?” I said and he nodded enthusiastically. I laughed. “Alright then, Luna Park it is!”

   The day passed quickly, and I learnt that Niall and endless bags of cotton candy were quite a combination. One could say they didn’t go well together as he ended up on a massive high all day, but it made it so much fun, plus I wasn’t complaining about him shouting me all this free food. Rollercoasters were my favourite, but there were hardly any at Luna Park, so I supplemented them with my old classic ride; the Ranger. Niall went on once and avoided even the Toddler Train after that.

   At the end of the day, the sun was setting across the sky, painting it a soft orange mixed with lines of pale fading blue and deep purple. The sun was burning warm on our faces, sitting just at the edge of night. We left laughing with five extra bags of cotton candy in our arms as well as plenty of photos of us on rides, a giant giraffe I won him in a shooting game and a ball of bright purple fuzz the size of my head that apparently glowed in the dark, that he had bought me.

   “Ah,” I sighed after laughing, re-adjusting my grip on the fuzz ball and some of the bags of cotton candy, “I better go home.”

   “You can’t,” he groaned, grabbing my hand and nearly dropping his giraffe, “Ah fuck me…” I laughed and shook my head.

   “I’ve got to get home, Niall. It’s getting late.”

   “Will your parents be home, then?”

   “No,” I scoffed at once, always knowing the answer, “They never are. They’re on some work cruise for the week.”

   “That’s right!” he said, his eyes widening, “So stay! With me, at the hotel! It’ll be great, and I’ll make you pancakes in the morning. Or waffles. Are you a pancake or waffles girl? I’ll make both.”

   “Right,” I chortled, “What do you say we’ll do all night, then?” His eyes flashed in the sunset.

   “Whatever you like, miss,” he replied and I laughed again, leaning up and kissing him lightly. But he leant back into me and deepened the kiss as much as you could under several bags of sugar and soft toys. I pulled away and smiled.

   “Alright.”

   “Alright?” he repeated, just to confirm. Ah, what damage could it do?

   “Alright!”

   “Alright!” he repeated again and I bumped him with my fuzz ball. “I’ll call a cab.” We ducked into a taxi he hailed over and dumped our stuff on the ground, no sooner had I shut the door, then had he pressed his lips firmly against mine again, his intention slowly becoming clearer.

   “Hardy Hotel,” he told the driver, “Round the back entrance, please.” I kissed him back, my fingers tangling in his soft blonde hair. Usually I’d be pretty conscious about the driver watching us, but I found myself uncaring tonight. I was used to his kisses being simply gentle and left me tingling, but in the heat of the moment, our lips were furiously working each other. His hands were trailing up and down my body and I barely had time to gasp for breath between each demanding kiss. We arrived at the hotel quickly, composed ourselves and hopped out only to be hit by a small swarm of paps.

   At least they hadn’t seen feverently making out in the back seat of the cab.

   The cameras, the people constantly shouting at me made me dazed and confused. I wanted to get out, and quickly. His hand was my saviour, finding mine and guiding me along through a maze of photographers.

   “Niall! Who’s the girl?”

   “Miss, can you confirm you are Niall Horan’s girlfriend?”

   “Niall, which are Direction is One Direction heading in after the Up All Night tour?”

   “How _old_ are you?” We scrambled to the entrance, the cab driver apparently forgetting Niall told him to circle around the back. The receptionist apologised, handed over his key and we headed towards the elevator. 

   “Are you alright?” he asked quietly in the contrasting quiet hum of the hotel compared to the chaos outside. “You look a little shaken up.”

   “I’ve never been jumped by photographers before,” I said, “This entire thing…you being famous, me being somewhat famous because I’m connected to you, it’s so overwhelming.”

   “Come here,” he mumbled, hugging to him. He smelled like cotton candy a bit now. “It’ll be OK.”

   “Will we be in the papers tomorrow?” I asked into his shirt. I felt him pause for a moment, gauging his response.

   “Probably.” We stepped into the lift and I felt myself being inexplicably drawn to him, with a need to be held. I stood warily beside him as we rose up to the level.

   “Niall-” I started, but words left both our minds as he pushed the items in our hands out of the way and kissed me again, pulling me into him, starting off gentle as he always did, before pushing firmer against. I remembered dragging him up my stairs last week wondering if it made me appear easy. It probably did. Ha! The thought of it, bedding my own One Direction band member. But tonight, something was different. There was no uncertainty between us, merely passion, desire and I think my head must have been light, because the unexpected thought of love crossed my mind. He pulled me out of the lift and lifted me off my feet, sweeping me down the corridor towards his room. I had only been in there a few times.

   It was dark inside, he didn’t bother with the lights as he closed the door behind him and set me down on the bed, kissing me deeply. My hands groped his chest as I felt the light from outside streaming through a small gap in the curtains, falling onto my face. I laid against the pillows, as he kissed me again, while I pushed the jumper off my shoulders and his warm soft touch trailed to my bare arms, making me shudder.

   I brushed his shirt over his head and hardly had time to admire the warmth and strength of his bare chest, which I could tell me was a little subconscious about, before his kisses were pressing into me, carressing my hair as my body completely relaxed under his tingling touch.

   At sixteen and a few months, I let him take me.

   He was gentle as he promised, slow and giving. He held me as I pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck. I could tell he wanted to go further; faster, harder and stronger, but for all his credit, he held back. It wasn’t as painful as I expected, perhaps being the in moment with him made it easier. But as I nodded in consent, he continued painstakingly slow for him, the pleasure began to take over. Before I knew it, he had snapped and the movements sent our hips bucking in unison, the sounds of moaning and groaning filling the room mixed with gasps and heavy breathing.

   It was all I do was to not let the pleasure consume me just yet, and tried to breathe as he was constantly grinding over me, making it hard not to be pushed over the edge.

   I think I remember seeing his face in that brief slither of moonlight, his eyes, everything. Thinking that I might be in love him, right there. Me, thinking those three words I’d never have the courage to say to his face. The first person I ever had loved. My heart hummed, and it was at that moment where I became the weakest of them all.

 

 


	7. Nothing's Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhey...no this is the first chapter ive named that it's not a song that one direction have sung  
> this just suited it better.  
> and the last chapter, phwoar now you know more about the awkwardness between bec and niall. the only question now is, what happened?  
> anyway, back to present again, remember the pathetic drunkeness? well that pays for itself a couple of times.

 

  

_Present Day  
_ _late November, 2012_

 

 

   "You turn into some swearing monster when you’re drunk,” snickered Louis and I emerged from Harry’s bedroom. “You were certainly piling on the profanity last night.”

   “Piss off, Louis,” I murmured, holding my pounding head in my hands, “I’m in such a bad mood.”

   “Liam’ll be down here soon,” he added, handing me a cup of water which I drank gratefully. My throat was dry as the desert, and everything hurt. I let a small groan slip at the thought of Liam. “He’ll be so supportive.”

   “Please, send him off,” I begged, “I can’t handle anyone right now.” Setting the empty cup down on the bench again, I felt my stomach quease with a short stabbing pain like my insides were being internally sucked through a vaccuum. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. I felt like a very damaged mess, wiping my mouth on a piece of toilet paper and flushing the toilet after me. Throwing up made me feel slightly better, but I was still incredibly hung over and my throat burned more feverishly than before.

   I stripped off and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water running down my back help me relax and breathe. When I stepped out, I dried my hair with a towel, washed my face, brushed my teeth, wrapped myself my towel, picked up my clothes and headed outside. I expected only Louis would be outside like before, but I drew up short at the sight of all five of them sitting at the kitchen bench, talking.

   “Ah, there she is!” exclaimed Louis loudly, making my head ring, “Everyone dropped by to check up on you, Bec.”

   “I’m fine,” I replied grumpily, nearly falling over as I approached them, not really helping my case. I eyed Liam, who was giving me a look of uncertainty and concern. “No lectures, please.” I wrapped my arms around Harry and kissed him on his head, as he held onto my arms.

   “Don’t look at me,” said Liam, holding his hands up as if in meek surrender, “You know what you did, Bec. You’re only sixteen, you don’t want this kind of thing to take over your life. I don’t drink, and look how I turned out.”

   “You don’t drink because you only have one kidney,” I shot back, taking a sip of Harry’s coffee. Urgh, that stung too. I should have just stuck to drinking water. “And that lecture fell a little short of your usual standard, just saying, Liam.”

   “She’s on edge, bro,” said Zayn, patting Liam on the arm, “You might not want to piss her off until she can walk in a straight line properly again.”

   “It hurts,” I moaned, sliding down into a seat, “Why do people drink if this is what happens the next morning?”

   “How much did you even drink?” demanded Zayn, “You look wiped.”

   “She had half a beer and two Black Delilahs,” filled in Louis immediately, with a hint of a smirk, “Babe, you’re a total wreck.”

   “Fuck you very much Louis,” I snapped, before sighing and saying, “I know, I know. I hardly had anything, and those Black Delilahs sent me on a high. Why did I even take them?”

   “Because of the prickhead I roughed up for you,” Louis interrupted, “The buff who dresses like Zayn? Varsity jacket and jeans?” I scrunched my face up, trying to recall, but to be honest last night was a complete blur of my memory. Maybe it was for the better. “Called me a gay Popeye?” I burst out laughing, immediately regretting it because it made me hurt some more, but it made me remember.

   “Oh yeah,” I sighed, “James Logan. I know who you mean. What happened after I ran out?”

   “Well, I fought with him, but just I landed a power shot in his shoulder, when the manager kicked me out,” said Louis, shaking his head, “The things I do for you, Bec.”

   “And then?”

   “I don’t know, I came out and you were sitting on the bench with Niall, sobbing your eyes out like a little kid,” he continued with a shrug. “Do you remember anything happening?” I looked at the blonde haired figure sitting on the opposite end of the kitchen bench. He didn’t look like he had slept much last night. My bad.

   “You don’t remember?” Niall asked me, in genuine disbelief. I shook my head very slowly. I think I could feel my brain sloshing around in there. His stare at me lingered a second too long before he said, “It was nothing. I sat down and you started crying.”

   “Ha!” exclaimed Louis, “You should have seen your face, Niall! You were so, completely terrified. Oh and then Bec said if he touched her, she’d punch his face in. Tweet-worthy!”

   “Don’t you dare!” I cried, “What’s it gonna be, hashtag the things we do when we’re drunk?”

   “Excellent suggestion,” he replied, “You were soaping your language off to basing most sentences off insults. It was interesting to see a new side of you Bec. Until you started bawling like a baby and I had to carry you to the cab, then back up here.”

   “Sorry,” I groaned, “I’m so sorry, Lou. You too, Niall, I know I get pretty obscene when I’m pissed off.”

   “Obscene!” scoffed Louis, “I think you called me a ‘prick without a dick’. Normally, I’d be pretty impressed by an insult like that.”

   “It’s alright,” was all Niall said, before he looked away.

   “Well, at least you’ve learnt your lesson,” said Liam in a voice which was brimming with the finality of a life-lesson lecture, “Getting drunk doesn’t only give you a nasty hang over, but you can hurt other people too, Bec. You’re lucky Niall and Louis didn’t just leave you there.”

   “Aww, Liam,” said Haz, “I don’t think they’d leave Bec there. She’d be at the mercy of that James Logan character.”

   “He’s a nice guy,” I began, but Louis cut across me, with a snarky,

   “Well, I hope he’s got an equally nice _bruise_ on his shoulder.”

   “Hey, go get changed,” suggested Harry, running his hand across my bare shoulders, “You don’t want to catch a cold.” I hopped off my chair, teetering dangerously before regaining a momentary sense of balance and hurrying back to Harry’s bedroom. I couldn’t wear back the clothes from yesterday, and I found the white lace dress hanging in Harry’s wardrobe I had left back a couple of weeks ago and pulled that on. I tied my hair up, grabbed my Oxford flats, threw on my black jacket and stepped outside.

   “Is there a reason why you’re all here?” I asked, while I pulled on my shoes. Harry walked over and kissed me on the cheek as I straightened up.

   “You look lovely. I see you found the dress I kept,” he said into my hair. I nodded, my eyes for some reason, compelled to land on Niall. He avoided my gaze entirely. “I can’t believe we forgot to tell you, but we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

   “Leaving?” I demanded, stepping away from him, “What? Where?”

   “We’ll still be in England,” he assured, walking over to the couch where the rest of the five had moved to, “We’re just going out to the countryside for about a week or so.”

   “We got a call from management this morning,” Zayn said, “They want us to shoot our newest music video out there.”

   “Paula, the director, she knows this really nice place out past Westershire. It’s basically all countryside land, and we’ll be camping out in this park region near a river and a couple of mountains,” added Liam, “We’ll only be gone for a short while.”

   “Guys, do you really think we should be leaving Bec alone?” asked Niall, and I glanced at him distractedly. Well, he couldn’t even speak to me anymore. I must have messed up really bad last night. “I mean, she just got off this bad thing. Plus, Danielle, Eleanor and Megan are coming along, aren’t they? She’ll have company.”

   “Well, they don’t want to come along for the shoot,” answered Liam, “Once we’re finished, we want to stop by Harry’s country cabin he’s got out on the way back. Just us and a couple of friends, so they’ll meet us there.”

   “Country cabin?” I repeated, “Interesting. What are you guys gonna get up to there?”

   “You could come along and find out,” suggested Harry, patting the seat on the couch next to him and I joined him. “You might as well as come along for filming too, we’ll get lonely.”

   “Unless you’ve got studying to do?” inquired Louis, poking Zayn to move over and sitting down, “You should come Bec, experience the breathtaking English countryside!” He chortled sarcastically, before adding as an afterthought, as if he thought no one might notice, “By the way, I booked our tickets to Cabo for your seventeenth.”

   “What!” I cried, and Zayn and Niall made surprised noises, having no idea what Louis was going on about. “Louis! I thought we weren’t going to rush anything yet.”

   “I’m not rushing anything,” defended Louis nonchalantly, “It’s less than a month to your birthday, Bec. OH, and I’ve booked us a nice beach hotel near the clubs and everything. It’ll be great!” Sure I was excited, but I was also a little surprised at how eager Louis was to go to Cabo. He caught me looking at him uncertainly and blurted, “I haven’t gone somewhere that I can tan for at least a year! Soon I’ll be as pasty as Niall, here!”

   “Hey!” said Niall defensively, and I laughed, forgetting for a moment that Niall hated me, and that I was still hung over.

   “I think I’ll come along to your shoot, then,” I said finally, “I’ve never been camping before, it ought to be fun.”

   “Great!” said Harry sitting up and Louis giggled.

   “Look, Haz’s excited,” he sniggered. “You guy’s will be sharing a tent, no doubt. We don’t a repeat of-” He stopped talking and I quickly jumped up.

   “I just remembered, I have to study today,” I stammered, the words tumbling from my mouth faster than my mind had time to comprehend them, “I’ll see you guys later.”

   “Hey, Bec,” said Harry, but I was hurrying out the door, with my bag slung over my shoulder. He chased me out into the corridor, catching my hand. “Hey, are you OK?”

   “Am I OK?” I repeated, feeling nervous, “Of course I am. I’m fine. Why?” He looked at me expectantly. I sighed and returned his look.

   “Nothing,” he said eventually, shaking his curly head, “You just looked a bit shaken when Louis said that thing about sleeping in the same tent-”

   “You know Louis,” I said with a fake laugh, “He doesn’t do much to censor his thoughts. I don’t have any problem with sharing a tent with you. In fact, I think we’ll rather enjoy it.” I winked and he smiled, apparently easily satisfied with my reply.

   “Good,” he said, kissing my cheek, “I thought you might have a problem because he was talking about the first time we had sex, you know? Never mind that, have fun studying, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grinned and walked off. I stood there, frozen, staring after him, wondering if part of his memory had been removed. I was over it, but it was a sensitive issue. Haz was over it, Niall just seemed destined to ignore me for the rest of our supposed ‘friendship’. I was left thinking that I might be the only one who remembered what had nearly torn us all apart.

*

   “Morning beautiful,” said Harry, kissing me on the lips as I smiled up at him, “You look gorgeous.”

   “Morning handsome,” I replied, nudging him with my hip, “You too.” He really did. He was wearing a red v-neck, a grey blazer and grey pants. He ran a hand through his hair as I pulled up my bag of stuff. He sneezed and I giggled. His sneeze always made me titter.

   “You OK?” “I-I’m fine,” he assured, grabbing a tissue, “I think I’ve caught hayfever.”

   “Dunce,” Louis replied, smacking him on the back of head as he walked past, “You can’t catch hayfever. You probably caught a cold off someone else.”

   “I don’t have anything,” replied Harry defensively, “I’m healthy as a horse. Let’s just go, alright?”

   “Jeez, so defensive,” Louis said, as Haz hurried past him with his bag. Louis looked at me and shrugged, “I don’t remember the last time he was sick. I don’t think he’s used to it.”

   “He’ll get better soon,” I said unsure, but uncomfortable with being Louis after what he said yesterday, “Where’s the van?”

   “Downstairs,” he replied as walked off, humming their new song, which they were going to be filming the music video for. “Oh, and Bec? Can you help Niall out here? His guitar’s pretty heavy and my hands are pretty full.”

   My instinct was to run out, pretend I didn’t hear him. Flight over fight every time, it was like an automatic body defense. But my feet rooted to the ground as I turned to Niall struggling through the door with a large bag and his guitar.

   “Here,” I said gently, taking the guitar from him. I could tell he was about to insist no, but I stopped him with a, “It’s OK, Niall. I’ve got it.” I turned and walked out the door, grabbing my bag on the way. I think the use of his name sort of spun him out, but I didn’t care. By the time we had moved all our stuff downstairs, it was half past ten and we all piled into the first caravan as we started our whole day journey to Brishire, the tiny country town where they’d film the music video.

   By lunch time, the trip was boring us to tears. We stopped at a lake and Paula and the rest of the crew, who were travelling in the second van behind us, filmed the guys fooling around at the lake, throwing rocks and splashing each other. Then they filmed the first verse. It was catchy, just like all their songs. I found it stuck it in my head just after one run through at the lake site. Liam started, as usual.

   “This is my hometown, baby, don’t think you’d understand Why it’s so hard to handle, you see I’ll do what I can You tell me I’m punching above my waist I think I’m beginning to see why you wanna get away,” he sung. Paula called cut and they moved the boys around a little, before filming Harry.

   “This isn’t how our story ends, Just hold on tight, you’ll see there’s no need to pretend It’s true, that I can see so much clearer, When you’re pointing it out, looking back in the rear view mirror.” I clapped as the boys finished filming the first thirty seconds of the song. But something was wrong. Harry was looking ill and unsure as he sung. As soon as they cut, Harry stumbled over and threw up in the bushes. When he drew up, he was coughing severely and he sneezed again.

   “Haz?” I cried, jumping up from the open van door where I had been watching. I sprinted over to the bush where he was leaned over, hands on his knees, out of breath. “Oh my god, what happened?”

   “Move back,” said Paula firmly, pushing me out of the way. Angry, I fumed quietly, but eventually it ebbed away into desperation as I watched her check Harry. I felt guilty, as though he might have gotten sick off me. After all, I was throwing my guts up yesterday.

   “Reckon he’ll be alright?” I asked Zayn as we watched him being taken aside and given a blanket. Zayn nodded.

   “He doesn’t look well now, but he’ll get better soon,” he replied assuringly, “Don’t worry, Bec. You didn’t give it to him. He’s been hanging around with you for months, and he’s got a immune system made of steel.” I furrowed my eyebrows, still not convinced.

   “Haz,” I muttered, rushing over to the van as Paula told the crew to pack up and head on the way to Brishire. I set him down in the caravan’s small bed at the very back. He groaned and rolled over onto his back. His face was pale and he looked really unwell. “Bec,” he moaned, grabbing my hand. I clung on to him tightly.

   “Bec…oh shit, my head.”

   “It’s alright,” I whispered, running my other hand across his forehead, sitting down on the bed beside him. “Shh.”

   “I haven’t been sick in years,” he grumbled, closing his eyes and rolling his head around, “Why the _fuck_ am I throwing up now?”

   “I don’t know,” I said shakily, “Just try get some sleep. Forget about the music video, just concentrate on getting better.” We finally arrived at Brishire just at nightfall. Paula got us in a national reserve, and we parked the vans in an area that was right next to a small meadow. We camped out on the area on the opposite end of the meadow, setting up a campfire and even doing up the tents. It was part of the night’s work was to film a bit around the campfire, and a little with the boys fooling around in their tents. There was one problem.

   Mr. Harry I’m-Always-There Styles was still lying, dead to the world, in the back of the caravan. Paula finally conceded after dinner that there wasn’t much they could do apart from film the other’s solos. As they prepared Zayn, Niall and Louis for their parts in the second verse, I carried a plate of food up to the caravan. I opened the door and stepped inside, which was completely dark. I felt a little scared, actually as the door swung shut behind me.

   “Haz?” I called out in the dark. I saw his head move to face me and I tiptoed towards him quietly. I set the plate of food down for him and propped his pillow up. I brushed the curtain open the tiniest fraction so the giant moon which was full tonight, thrust a tiny amount of light for him able to see.

   “Bec,” he sighed, sounding relieved, “I missed you.” His voice was croaky and hoarsed. I smoothed his hair out as much as I could, since it was all messy from him lying on it all day.

   “I’ve just been outside,” I whispered with a quiet laugh, “I brought you some food, just in case you were hungry.”

   “Thanks,” he said, taking one bite and swallowing thickly, before setting his fork down, “I probably shouldn’t eat too much. I don’t want it to all come back up again.”

   “OK,” I replied, taking the plate away and putting it down on the bench near by. I turned back to him, smoothing out his blanket and making sure he was completely covered. There was something gratifying about nursing him in sickness. “Anything else you need, Hazza?”

   “A kiss?” he whispered hopefully, as if I would even consider turning him down. I smiled.

   “You don’t need to ask for it,” I replied, leaning over and kissing him briefly on the lips, and then on the forehead, before drawing up the blanket closer to his chin.

   “But I still need it,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, “G’night Bec…I love you.” I sat in the darkness, listening. I could hear someone singing outside. I think it was Zayn, or Liam.

   “We’re going up, down, up, down, the sooner I break,  
   We’re gonna es-cape this town, whatever it takes,  
   And its only you I hear in my ears  
   This home’s drying up faster than all of my fears  
   I told you we won’t be stuck here forever  
   I promise you from today, it’ll only get better  
   We’re going up, down, up, down  
   But we’re gonna make, we’re gonna make  
   We’re gonna make the great escape.”

   I stepped outside, thinking about what Harry had mumbled on the verge of sleep. I loved him too, but I think he was drunk. The cool air blew through me as I watched the filming warily from the caravan door. The four of them were jumping up and down, singing to the chorus. What a hassle for them, I thought sardonically, looking at the crew. They’d have to photoshop Harry in or something. Niall jumped forward and sang his part now, pointing at the camera and flashing a charming smile their way. I missed seeing that, even if it wasn’t directed at me.

   “Don’t worry, cool it down babe, don’t shout I can hear ya, I heard every excuse from every girl before ya, Don’t make me chase you, I’ve always kept my promise He ain’t got nothing on me, I loved you first, girl you know I got this.”

   “Cut!” Paula’s voice rang out and she nodded approvingly. The four regrouped and prepared for Louis’s solo.

   “That’s right, I’ll make you believe that I know the best way out I’m your ticket out of here, look in my eyes you won’t see no doubt This place is dead, let’s get out, let’s jump it You’re the right girl who knows how to pump it.” The four of them sang the chorus again, before Paula cut them short.

   “That’s all we can do with Harry,” I heard her tell them. I sat down at the caravan entrance and leant my head against the door frame. “Good work, boys.” Louis climbed up towards the caravan, his hands in his pockets, looking a little ominous.

   “Hi Lou,” I said with a sigh, “What’s up?”

   “We’ve finished, finally,” he replied, looking at me through his lashes, “How’s Haz?” “He’s surviving, but I don’t he’ll be better for a while,” I admitted,

   “You guys not gonna film until he’s better?”

   “Probably,” he said, “They might do a few shots of the van moving or of the scenery, but we won’t be needed until Haz can jump up and down and sing without spewing.”

   “That might be a while,” I said, blinking up at him. I lowered my voice slightly, even though everyone was at least twenty metres away. “Louis?”

   “Yeah, babe?”

   “Are you sure you’re…you know?" I asked, before blushing, “I mean, last time I checked was six months ago. You might have changed your mind by now.”

   “Oh, Bec,” he sighed, leaning on the caravan next to me and sliding down so we were on the same level, “I wish I could just change my mind.” He looked a little miserable.

   “But, Lou…aren’t you going out with Eleanor?” I asked, “I heard Liam mention her name once.”

   “Yep,” he said bitterly, “Dating a girl who deserves so much better.”

   “Reckon you’ll ever tell anyone?” I asked and he gave me a hard look.

   “You’re the only one who knows,” he said quietly, looking back at the burning fire in the near distance. “I can’t. Not if I want us to succeed. Even though it works itself up and destroys me from the inside out.”

   “Oh Lou,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. He let me, even though I had hugged quite a few times over the past few days and I knew he disliked hugging in general. “You gonna take care of Haz tonight?”

   “I don’t want to get sick,” he joked, “No, I think Paula’s got him right. You should stay in the tents too, just in case.”

   “I’ll be sleeping by myself?”

   “It’ll be hard at first, I know you’re not used to it.” I pulled a face and nudged him with my knee. “We can organise something.”

   “Thanks Lou,” I said, leaning my head back against the caravan’s door frame. “You guys were good. The song sounds like it’s gonna be a next number one.”

   “Really?” he scoffed, “It’s OK, but we’re just working on the new album as fast possible. We got a two tracks from Ed…Haz is magic with him.”

   “Ed Sheeran?” I gasped, sitting up, “I love him!”

  “Says the teenage girl to One Direction,” grumbled Louis.

   “Don’t be so needy,” I replied, “You know I love you guys too.”

   “I’m not needy,” he huffed, getting to his feet. “Come on, Bec, you can’t baby sit Haz forever, let’s go roast some marshmallows.” It sounded foolishly shallow coming from him, but I got up anyway and went over with Lou to join the guys around the fire. The crew had retreated to their caravan, leaving the four of them and I to hang around for a while. I sat down on the dusty ground next to Zayn.

   “Marshmallows?” I asked and he handed me the packet. I grabbed three, found a stick and started roasting them over the coals. The fire was warm, the heat flickering against my face, and it made me actually feel relatively warm. The guys joked around for a while, and I listened in quietly, not participating for once. Louis noticed of course and nudged me with his foot.

   “Vas happenin, Bec?” asked Zayn, and I felt uncomfortable immediately.

   “Nothing’s wrong,” I replied defensively, “I’m just tired, that’s all.” I could do with a drink. Even a Black Delilah, right now.

   “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” said Zayn, jumping up, “Let’s play the song we’re writing! For Bec, she’ll love it. It'll cheer her up.”

   “What’s this?” I asked with a grin, sitting up.

   “All of us are writing a song,” explained Liam, “Go get your guitar.”

   “Yeah buddy,” I heard Niall mutter as he rose to his feet walked over to where he had propped his guitar up and returned, strumming a few chords here and there. Niall’s guitar was full of bad memories.

   “I’ll sing Haz’s part,” volunteered Zayn, leaning back on his hands, “It doesn’t have a name, yet.”

   As soon as Niall started playing the guitar, I felt as though my heart was dropping. In the first five seconds of it, without any of them singing, I fell in love with the song. It was sweet but sad at the same time. Liam opened his mouth and began to sing.

   “Saw you across the subway, you were looking right back  
   Eyes locked, time stopped, but we were broken again.” Oh his voice was always so soothing and deep. He could be a radio announcer on those frequencies for old people who listen to music from the last century.

   “Remember in high school, when I first met you? I thought we’d have it all to ourselves. But ooh, did you think I could stop a heart thief?” Zayn sung, in his perfect pitched melody.

   “And I thought I could call you mine,” they all sung, the harmonies of their voices mixing perfectly, “You were standing there looking so damn divine. You told me you were done with that, I was the fool for believing all the crap. I thought you said you’d be true…you spent me tripping, tripping, head over heels for you.” 

   From what I could tell, the song was about a guy who used to love a girl, but then something happened. Couldn’t tell yet.

   “I can’t believe I fell for those lies, thought I saw something in your eyes You caught me by surprise, twisted my heart in your hand until I died,” Niall sung. Well apparently whatever the girl did, it must have really hurt. A lot. Seeing as he died. Louis took over.

   “I never saw him coming, now he’s taken you and he’s gone again. Wish I could rewind, so take me back, take me back, please,” he sung, hitting a high note impressively. But those lyrics. They struck me now what they truly meant. There was another guy who popped out of nowhere and then the girl was gone. There was a story behind it. The four launched into the chorus again, a powerful melody. When the coda came, I was surprised to hear Niall singing. Usually Zayn got that part, or Harry, or Liam.

   “I’ve locked myself up and away, and I’m asking myself why didn’t I love you better? And I was so dumb to walk away without a fight, because looking back, I don’t think it’d matter.” His high on high voice quietened down to something lower. The guitar’s tune turned to a hum. “And I wish I had, one more day with you, And I can still feel your touch, god when I’m with her, yeah I’m wishing it was you.” My breath caught in my throat. It was beautiful. The entire song, their voices, everything. As he played the final chords of the song and their voices ebbed away I sighed.

   “Oh my god,” I said softly, “You guys! That was amazing! Did you really write it all yourself?”

   “Niall here did most of the lyrics with Haz and the music too,” said Liam, slapping his friend on the back.

   “Good job,” I said graciously.

   “Boys?” Paula called, from up in her caravan, “It’s getting late, you might want to get some rest for tomorrow’s filming.”

   “Alright,” said Louis, getting up and offering me his hand. I took it and stumbled to my feet, popping my marshmallows in my mouth with a grin. “Who’s gonna share with Bec?”

   “Share what?”

   “Tent.”

   “I’m gonna go brush my teeth at the primitive toilets,”I interrupted sharply, grabbing my bag and walking off. By the time I returned, the boys were inside and there was one empty tent. I climbed in. There were two sleeping bags, and it really did look quite comfy. There was a bit of space, so I put my bag down there, zipped up the tent and changed into my pyjamas. I tucked my clothes away just as I heard Louis’ voice call,

   “Bec? Can I come in?”

   “Sure,” I said, unzipping the tent. He poked his head in.

   “Well this looks cosy,” he commented.

   “You my tent buddy?” I asked, sticking my tongue out. This ought to be fun.

   “Unfortunately, no,” he sighed, “You were supposed to share with Haz, and we wanted to make sure you weren’t cold. So here.” His head disappeared out of the flap. I moved forward only to start back as Niall stuck his foot in and entered the tent.

   “Hi,” I said awkwardly, and he flashed me a brief grim smile as though he didn’t really know what he was doing here either.

   “Hey there.” As soon as he was out of the way, I pounced out of the tent, slipped into my shoes and shuffled after Louis who was walking quickly away in the other direction.

   “Louis!” I hissed in to the darkness, after him, “Lou! Louis Tomlinson, stop right there!” I managed to shuffle up to him and grab his arm.

   “What?” he said looking a little guilty as if he knew exactly what.

   “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded angrily, “Putting him as my tent buddy? Do you know how uncomfortable that’s going to be?”

   “Bec,” he sighed, “It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable unless you make it. You guys hardly talk at all, except the other night when you were screaming and crying and swearing your lungs out at him. And that’s doesn’t count as a conversation.” I blushed and slapped his arm.

   “No,” I snapped, “I can’t-” The sound behind us made us look over our shoulders so fast it practically gave us whiplash. The tent flap was opening and Niall was peeking out as us.

   “Lou?” he asked, craning his neck up, “You took my hoodie before, where is it?”

   “In my tent,” replied Louis pointedly, “Let me get it.”

   I stood there awkwardly as Louis retreated to his tent and Niall was looking at me. Eventually he closed the flap and went back in. I groaned internally. Who was Louis kidding? There was no way I could get through this night. When Louis was returning with Niall’s hoodie folded over his arm, he handed it to me.

   “What?” I whispered, but he turned away and walked off. What a pisshead. He left me wondering what I was supposed to do with it. Return it to him, I guess. Weighing up the consequences, my mouth crinkled into a straight line and I shuffled slowly as possible back to my tent. I slipped my shoes off, bent the flap back and crawled. He was already in his sleeping bag, his blonde hair the brightest thing in the husky darkness.

   “Here,” I said stiffly, handing him his hoodie, “Louis told me to give this to you.”

   “Thanks,” he replied calmly, sounding actually relaxed for once. He took it from me, slipped it over his head, then rolled over and went to sleep. To be honest, that arrangement was perfectly fine with me.

   I curled up on my side, feeling chilled to my bone, but finally falling into a brief light slumber. I woke again, I didn’t know what time it was. Out here, I had no sense of it. It could be the early hours of the morning. It could be just an hour or two after I had fallen asleep. It could have been ten minutes. I sat up slightly, trying not to disturb my tent buddy. That was until I realised he wasn’t there.

   I let out a deep breath, and fell back on to my sleeping bag, realising how freezing I was. My fingers were so cold and stiff, they felt like popsicles. The sloping tent wall beside me was already causing the claustrophobia to kick in; I could feel my muscles tensing already, so I picked up my jacket, pulled on my socks and got out.

   I unzipped the tent and stuck my head out, climbing unstably through the flap and onto the damp ground. I felt the water from the ground quickly soaking through my socks and hopped around, until I found my shoes. I slipped into them quickly, but the coldness had already reached my toes.

   I tucked my freezing hands into my pockets and looked up, immediately surprised to see Niall standing on top of the hill, in the pitch black cold night, just staring up at the sky. I froze, but he must have heard me, because I saw him turn his head in my direction. Not wanting to make it any more awkward by turning around and returning back into our tent, and yes, maybe partially I might have been drawn to him, I shuffled my feet slowly and started to walk towards him. When I finally reached him, he was staring at the sky again. I pulled up next to him, standing at least a foot away, and craned my neck to the sky as well.

   “Can’t sleep?” he asked quietly. All I could hear was his voice, and the continuous song of the crickets. I shook my head.

   I forgot how beautiful the night sky was. All this time I had been cooped up in my apartment, I rarely came out and stared up at the sky anymore. I had lost sense of how limitless it seemed, how dark the blue velvet of the heavens were, how bright and magnificent the stars were, inlaid into the black. I let out a deep sigh, a small cloud of fog forming infront of my face.

   “It’s too cold,” I replied. “It’s too goddamn cold.”

   “Mmm,” he said, not taking his eyes off the sky, “You should rest. It’s been a long day and all.”

   “So should you,” I deflected easily, “You’ve been filming.”

   “It’s not that tiring,” he admitted, “It’s just running around and singing.”

   “Watching you guys run around and sing isn’t that tiring either,” I fired back. He sighed and didn’t reply, either too tired to argue, or just clearly frustrated with me. Either way, I didn’t care.

   “Is the fire still going?” I asked him carefully.

   “I think so,” he said, not looking at me.

   “Alright, well I’m going to the fire.” I walked off towards where the campfire was, happy to find it still alive. I threw a couple of dried leaves and firewood on it, and slowly coaxed a bigger flame out of it. I curled up near it and raised my hands to warm them up. It occurred to me that now Niall and I had nothing to talk about anymore. It explained why I was so much closer with the rest of them than him. We were never really friends. We didn’t know how. The heat was making me sleepy, but I was enjoying it too much to leave.

   I was hardly aware when he plonked himself down beside me and raised his hands to the fire.

   “Oh,” I said, “You’re back.”

   “The fire was tempting.” Huh. Nothing else, apparently.

   “I haven’t had much time to catch up with you since I arrived,” I commented, picking away at the ground in attempt to appear completely harmless. “How are you?”

   “Fine, I suppose,” he said, “You’re doing well, I see. London U and all. How did you get a scholarship?”

   “I dug my heels in and worked hard,” I shrugged, “It almost killed me, but I’ll never regret it.”

   “Sometimes, I find myself wanting to go to uni,” he admitted, “I always wondered what it’d be like.”

   “Well then, you’re just being dumb,” I replied, “You really don’t want to go if you can afford not to.” He chuckled, and picked at the small spot on the ground infront of him. My breath nearly hitched in my throat. His laugh.

   “I heard you went trekking with Liam two weeks ago? How was that?” he asked, looking up at me for the first time. Our eyes connected. He looked down again. I felt the all familiar sensation of building tension in me again. It would end badly, I knew it would.

   “I should have listened to you guys,” I said, shaking my head madly, “It was one of the worst experiences of my life.”

   “Ha!” he exclaimed slightly, moving ever so slowly closer to me, “Zayn went once, and just about passed out. He came home looking like a cave man, all unwashed with a massive Jesus-like beard, looking crazy as. None of us were really up for the challenge after that.”

   “Urgh,” I said, shaking my head, “He made me carry around a 12 kilo sack on my back and climb a fucking mountain range. I didn’t shower for three days. I think if I scrubbed my skin hard enough, enough dirt would come out to plant a small tree.”

   “Sounds just like what Liam would do,” he said immediately, his lips drawing out in what I think was the beginning of a faint smile. “How was he?”

   “Terrible,” I groaned, recalling the traumatic experience, “He was trying to be motivational, but for someone that fit, he’d make a pretty shitty personal trainer. I think he was trying to be nice, but after a while he gave up and told me just to move. I found myself wanting him to yell, but he just looked all disappointed in me. Like a dad.”

   “That’s why we call him Daddy Direction!” Niall pointed out, leaning back slightly, supporting himself on his hands, “Ahh, Liam. Did he take you home afterwards?”

   “He was going to trek for an entire week,” I replied, “But after three days, I beyond dead, so he called Haz to pick me up.” I expected Niall to freeze up on me and go cold, but he was surprisingly complacent.

   “Saved,” he said, “You know he does one every month? A trek, I mean?”

   “Once a month?” I cried in disbelief, “He must be mad!”

   “He is,” Niall laughed, and my heart tripped over its own goddamn feet in order to keep up with the jump it had just tipped over in my chest. “Just so crazy.”

   “The entire time, I was just thinking of all the things I could have been doing instead,” I moaned, shaking my head, “Sleeping, eating, resting, watching tv, reading, just lying in bed, even going out!”

   “Oh wow,” he said jokingly, “It must have been near death if you’d rather have gone out.” I pulled a face and bumped him gently with my shoulder. Tension. Bad, bad move.

   “You know me,” I said quickly, “A house is for living, right? So why-”

   “Shouldn’t you live in it?” he finished, “I know, I remember. You used to say it all the time.”

   No. No. No.

   “I lived in the pantry for the remaining four days of his trek,” I said again, taking it back to something safer, though it wasn’t true. I lived half in the pantry, the other half in front of television with Harry. Sometimes beside Harry. Mostly Harry inside me. OH GOD, BEC CENSOR YOUR THOUGHTS!

   A small weak noise escaped my lips as the thought crossed my mind and he glanced at me expectantly. “Are you alright?” he asked in an almost genuinely caring way, reaching out before I could move away and touching my shoulder with one of his hands. “I’m fine,” I said quickly, and his hand moved away, the spot of my shoulder feeling like it was ablaze. It wasn’t just because the fire was warming our bodies.

   “My shoulders…they’re just a bit tense.” What did I think I was doing? Dropping hints that I actually wanted him to touch me? The internal anger instantly evaporated as he tenderly ran his hand up and down my back. Instead of feeling some sort of sexually explicit shudder run through me, my stomach tensed in a fleetingly pleasant way, my entire body relaxed and my heart suddenly felt lke it was spreading sunlight flowing through my blood vessels to my very tips. One of his fingers brushed a small part of bare skin poking out from the hem of my jacket and I nearly jumped. His skin on mine was electrifying.

   “Hey,” he said, shaking his head but barely suppressing a grin, “Reminds me of the time Liam took us to some obstacle course for the day. It was literally wading through mud for a couple of hours until people tied ropes around our waists and dragged us out.”

   I found myself laughing, because I don’t know, everything that tumbled out of his mouth amused me. I missed just talking like this. Maybe, just maybe being friends wouldn’t be that bad.

   Until I leaned over and kissed him.

   Well, that idea just went out the window. The thing was, I was too drawn in to notice. I was so warm and comfortable, the firelight flickering over us. I didn’t feel like I was being controlled like I normally was.

   I was just there, he was just there, we were just us, together. I kissed him so openly; I think his mouth was slightly ajar, but it was so full and deep that I experienced the shiver-inducing feeling of being able to lose myself entirely to him. I didn’t want him to ever stop. There was that familiar feeling in my chest, that was commonly assosciated to an ache, but in his arms, it felt more like a longing. Why did I ever stop doing this?

   The reason came back to me as I drew away from the kiss, realising what I was doing. Or not realising, rather. He just stared at me, right in the eye, a flat expression on his face. He almost looked disappointed.

   “What are you doing?” he asked, blinking slowly.

   “I-I don’t know,” I stammered, dropping my gaze, but he refused to look away. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

   “You’re sorry?” he asked, “What, that you kissed me?”

   “Yes,” I answered immediately, before realising how harsh the word fell from my lips, “I- I mean, no…I just wasn’t-”

   “It’s always the same.” The disappointment in his voice was unbearable. The look in his eyes now was more disgust than anything else. “The same excuses.”

   “I’m not making excuses! I’m done making excuses!” I cried, sitting up angrily. How dare he!

   “No, you’re not,” he replied firmly, dusting his hands off, and shaking his head. He looked at me one more time with a clear look of undeniable disdain. “Nothing’s changed.”

   “I’ve changed,” I said quietly, “You have too. We both have.”

   “Don’t say we,” he almost snapped and I felt my heart recoil. He groaned. “Everything else has changed. You haven’t.”

   “What, because…because I’m just the same girl you met on tour?” I demanded, my stammering and my constant tripping over my own words not helping my case. He looked at me so fiercely that my breath hitched in my throat again and I faltered senselessly. I knew at once I’d never win this argument. That no matter what I protested, that he was always right about me.

   There was a brief silence as I was able to process that all had been undone, that I had lost him again.

   “No. You’re still the girl that I left on tour.” Oh my god. “Good night, Bec.”

   “No, no, Niall,” I begged, trying to catch his hand as he stood up and walked past me. But he was too quick, already trudging back across the cold wet grass towards our tent. I heard him unzip it as his silhouette moved down and crawled inside. I stared, hypnotised by the fire. It had lost all its power to warm me within a few moments.

   Eventually I rose to my numb legs and stumbled back towards our tent, the final one in the row. I leaned down and unzipped the entrance with wet, feelingless fingers. I peered into the darkness as I kicked my shoes off. He was sleeping on the left side of the tent, pushing as close to the wall as possible. As far away from me. I couldn’t tell if he was sleeping yet, but I remained quiet as I climbed in, zipped up the tent behind me and fumbled around for my sleeping bag.

   It was ice cold.

   Everything. The air. The wind. The ground. The tent. My sleeping bag. My body.

   I curled up in a tiny ball, burying my face in my arms, trying to push away the desire that more than anything right now, I wished that the unreachable boy that lay less than a metre away, would hold me close to him one more time.

 

 


	8. Up All Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get EXCITED guise. this explains wat screwed everything up :)  
> this does the clean smut thing at the end too!!  
> that is all.   
> enjoy xx

 

_Seven Months Ago:  
_ _April, 2012_

 

 

   "HAZ, OVER HERE!” yelled Louis, waving him over. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Harry crossing the pounding club with a tall, gorgeous girl hanging off his arm. I could hardly hear myself think in here, but I didn’t mind. It was dark, lights flashing, the bass of the pounding DJ set vibrating the floor in steady rhythms.

   On the dancefloor, there were bodies grinding up against each other everywhere. The bar, not far from our private booth, was all high-tech and lit up with blue light, with attractive bartenders. I liked it, even though I was out of place here. I shifted over, closer to Niall who wrapped his arm around my shoulders and whispered into my ear,

   “God, you look gorgeous tonight.” I smiled and blushed, looking down at my little black dress. Apparently it did wonders for me.

   “Hey everyone,” said Harry and I looked up. We locked eyes for a second, and as I looked away I could feel his linger on. “Hi Bec. Wow. You look beautiful.” For some reason, Niall didn’t seem to mind him saying stuff like that to me.

   “I know right!” he replied as Harry sat down next to me and smiled at me. I returned it hesitantly, before he turned to the gorgeous girl next to him.

   “Guys, this is Jacinta.”

   “Hi,” I said, leaning over Haz and offering my hand but she pulled into a massive hug, smooshing her boobs into my chin. I leaned back, trying not to appear traumatised. She had thick long blonde hair, a dramatic hourglass figure and pearly whites. “Are you a model?”

   “A glamour sportswoman,” she corrected. I blinked. Was that even a job? “Who are you, Liam’s little sister?” She giggled in a high pitch and I looked nervously at Niall, who’s corner of his mouth lifted slightly as if in faint disdain. I tried not to laugh.

   “No, I’m not related to anyone here,” I replied, “I’m Niall’s girlfriend.”

   “Oh, you?” she said, pointing to Niall, “Blondie! Aww, you two are sweet together.”

   “Thanks,” Niall said grimly.

   “Oh and you’re Irish!” she gushed, “I love Ireland.”

   “Oh, you’ve been?” he asked, but she shook her head, her hair swishing around like a horse’s.

   “No, but I’d like to one day,” she said, “I heard the Big Ben’s very nice. Come on Harry, let’s dance!” Jacinta grabbed his hand and dragged him off towards the dance floor. Niall, Liam, Louis and I stared after her in silence, before we started laughing.

   “Oh the girls that Harry picks up,” sighed Liam.

   “I didn’t actually think someone could be that stupid,” I said looking after her, “Where did he find her?”

   “Who knows,” muttered Louis, “Hey look, Zayn’s here! Oh, Simon’ll be happy. At least the boy’s playing nice now.” It was Simon Cowell’s opening event at his new nightclub here, but he wasn’t present so he got someone else to step up. Who better than his newest, most well known assosciates of the moment? One Direction, of course.

   “Hey guys,” Zayn said, arriving much like Harry did, with a gorgeous woman on his arm. At least this one I knew; Rebecca Ferguson, who was dating him currently. She was down here working on her album. Niall and I had lunch with her and Zayn a week or two ago, and she seemed relatively nice.

   “Rebecca, hi,” I said, hugging her as she sat down next to me, “Great to see you again.”

   “You too, honey,” she said in her deep, sensual voice. Urgh. No wonder Zayn had the hots for this one. “How are you?”

   “Great,” I admitted, because it was true. The last month of my life had been…well, phenomenal. The day after I stayed over at the hotel with Niall, we were out in the papers. It was something to say that my parents were quite upset to find out from the newspapers and their gossiping suburbia neighbours that their daughter was a groupie for One Direction.

   It took me a while to get around convincing them it was OK. They were so opposed to the idea me having a boyfriend, I was convinced they wanted me ending up to be a cat lady when I was older. The boys took me around to their concerts and performances in Melbourne and Brisbane, and left briefly to go to Adelaide and Perth, but were finally back in Sydney for the last week of the tour.

   “That’s good, baby,” Rebecca replied, “That’s real good. And how are the paparazzi treating you?”

   “Same old,” I shrugged, “They were lining outside my house when they followed me home. So now I’m officially moved in with these guys for the next few days!”

   “You having fun? They’re not too disgusting to live around?” I laughed.

   “I’m bearing with it,” I said and Zayn scoffed.

   “Please Bec,” he sniggered, “Don’t pretend to be the clean girl who goes around cleaning up other people’s messes. You can’t even control your own.” I smacked his leg.

   “Shush,” I said with a smile, “I’m not that messy.” I felt Niall’s nose brush the other side of my neck and I shuddered involuntarily. He could excite me with the softest of touces. I felt his arm tighten around my waist, stroking my skin through the thin black fabric. No doubt what he had in mind for me when we got back to the hotel.

   “Zayn,” said Louis in a hushed voice, “Look alive sexy, photographers are here.” It made me laugh to see how quick Zayn’s facial expression changed to be camera ready. The smouldering eyes, the hand through hair, pouting lips. Rebecca looked at him and rolled her eyes. The photographers approached, telling us they were from Sunday Telegraph.

   “I’m Holly,” said the reporter, “Can we just get a quick photo of you guys? We’d love to have it in our events column for Sunday’s paper.”

   “Uh, maybe I should get out,” I said, making to stand up, but she shooed me down.

   “No, you stay,” she commanded, “Sit there, closer to your boyfriend. Zayn, sweety, arm around Ms. Ferguson? Yes, that’s perfect. Now, where’s the star? Mr. Harry Styles?” The others looked disgruntled at this. 

   “Out dancing,” smirked Louis, “I can tell him to go find you when he gets back.”

   “That’s great, thanks,” Holly replied, “Is he here with anybody?”

   “With us,” deflected Liam confidently. What a good liar. “Photo?”

   “Yep, alright, hold it there,” she continued, and the photographer accompanying her snapped the shot. “Perfect. Thank you boys, have a good time tonight.”

   “You too!” called out Louis as they walked away. Niall took a swig of his beer and licked his lips happily.

   “I missed beer so much,” he crooned, admiring the bottle before setting it down. I pretended to huff. “Oh, you too babe.”

   “Prick,” I muttered with a breathy laugh, “Can I have a drink?”

   “Sure,” he said, raising his hand. A waiter walked over and he ordered, as I remember, “A cola, for this young lady here.” I punched him in the shoulder.

   “A cola? You’re not serious?”

   “I’m not going to be responsible for you getting drunk at sixteen.”

   “I’m a whole lot of things at sixteen, but I’m not a alcoholic,” I shot back, my hand curling around his and squeezing it. I smiled sweetly. “A beer, Nialler?”

   “Here’s your cola, miss,” said the waiter, shooting me a weird look as he set it down infront of me.

   “See!” I cried, slapping Niall’s leg as he walked off, “No one’s gonna take me seriously if I’m drinking a cola.”

   “You don’t want it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, making a swipe for it. I snatched it away before he could reach it and narrowed my eyes at him. I popped the cap and drank a mouthful. Cola. It wasn’t bad. I just wanted to have a beer!

   “Anyway,” he continued, leaning into my ear so only I could hear him over the screaming dubstep music. “You might wanna save your sanity for later.”

   “Aww you skank,” I grinned, biting my lip and pinching his leg. He jumped. “Hands off!”

   “My hands are clear!” he protested just as Harry chose the moment to arrive, minus his bimbo date.

   “Hi,” he said, glancing between Niall and I. I wanted to pull a face at him, but resisted the temptation. I still didn’t like him. He had a bad habit of staring while singing. “Where can I get a drink around here?”

   “Uh, the bar?” suggested Liam, sipping his glass of water, “You might wanna lay off the alcohol tonight. Remember, you’ve got...you know, that- that thing…” Harry blinked at him then nodded.

   “Right.” He slid into next to Liam and ordered a cola.

   “Ha!” cried Niall, “See, Haz is drinking a cola too.”

   “So?” I replied, “At least people know he can drink if he wants to. I need that to let people know I’m not a kid.”

   “Heh,” he said, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me on the lips. Silenced. That pathetically easily. “You’re my kid.”

   “OK,” I said, looking into those blue eyes.

   “Whoo! Get a room!” hooted Louis, “Seriously. You two can’t keep your hands off each other, can you?”

   “I’d prefer not to,” Niall answered with a wink, “I’ll be back, I just need to check something.” He got up and left the booth, blending into the mass of bodies pumping out on the dance floor. I found Harry staring at me again. I blinked this time, making him blink back.

   “Sorry,” he blurted, “I just can’t get over how nice you look tonight.”

   “Thanks,” I said, wishing Niall hadn’t left. “Put on a dress, and who would guess it?” He chuckled.

   “No, there’s something else,” he said, looking at me in what I think was supposed to a seductive look through his eyelashes, “Niall’s a very lucky, lucky guy.”

   “I’m a lucky, lucky girl to have him,” I sighed, “Hey, where did your date go? Ja-ja…”

   “Jacinta,” he said with a groan. “Off, grinding someone she probably thinks is me. It got annoying after a while. Dealing with her constantly talking and talking. Don’t get me wrong she’s hot…”

   “Who’s hot?” asked Zayn, leaning into to our conversation. I hadn’t noticed how close Harry and I had gotten. I pulled away instantly and shifted over closer to Rebecca quickly.

   “My date? The model?”

   “She said she’s a ‘glamour sportswoman’,” I corrected, “If that’s a job.”

   “I don’t know, you’re the Australian,” Harry said, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back on them. “Where did _your_ date go, Zayn?” I realised that I hadn’t been shuffling closer to Rebecca, but to Zayn.

   “Where did she go?” I said with a hint of desperation, because this booth was suffocating me under the level of testosterone.

   “I-oh,” said Zayn breathlessly, “Uh-oh. Oh dear, not good.” He jumped out of the booth and I watched his sihoulette actually sprint blindly across the club towards the stages next to the DJ set. I squinted as we all looked over. It appeared as though Rebecca Ferguson was currently the centre of attention of the entire club. Because at that moment, she was crumping up on the stage with drink in hand. Well that got out of hand pretty fast. I saw Zayn hop up on stage only to be egged on by the crowd to dance with her. I could tell, Rebecca was far off tipsy.

   “Here’s my baby daddy!” she crowed, before twisting down low and body rolling back up again. I didn’t say it, but she looked like she might start stripping off at any second. Zayn must have thought so too, because he swept her off her feet to the sound of cheers and carried her off.

   “Come on,” he said to us, pointing to the exit, “Time to go.”

   “Good,” moaned Harry, jumping out immediately, “Hope Jacinta doesn’t notice. Maybe another guy will get laid tonight because she thought it was me.” I could see the photographer and the reporter from before and I hurried them on. We grabbed our stuff and headed to the exit, but I looked around for Niall. I couldn’t see anything in here.

    “Bec?” It was Liam, expectantly waiting next to me at the exit. His face was scrunched up. “Let’s go?”

   “Niall,” I breathed, “Where’s Niall?” I turned on my heels and rushed back inside.

   “Bec, wait!” Liam called, but I found myself thrust into some strange disorientating environment.

   I think I must have run onto the dance floor, because suddenly the music was five times louder than before and everyone was dancing and grinding up on each other like they were rocks making powder. I tried squishing through, but only more bodies met my way. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t find my way out of there.

   I saw a flash of blonde hair and I dove at the tiny space of potential escape, only to have my face nearly collide with someone’s boobs. I looked up to cry an apology, only to see Jacinta peering down at me. I think she recognised me. And something about me must have reminded her of Harry, because her mouth opened, her eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder at the guy she had been grinding.

   I turned and fled in the opposite direction, or any direction really, because at the rate I was moving, I couldn’t tell if I was turning around with every step. I finally pushed someone out of the way and collided with someone else.

   “Bec!” Oh thank my god, it was Niall.

   “Oh… Niall,” I gasped, “We’re… leaving, Rebecca was crumping up on stage… she’s drunk and-”

   “Harry?” I heard Jacinta yell as she stumbled away the mass of dancing bodies. “Where’s he gone? Harry!”

   “Crap!” I cried, grabbing Niall’s hand just as Harry’s face poked out of the exit. “Go, go!”

   “W-?” began Harry, but I shoved him forward towards the exit. We burst out onto the street as I heard Jacinta call,

   “Hey there he, I- HARRY!” We hit the pavement running, sprinting down the street, which was no where near safe, since I was wearing two and a half inch black pumps.

   It was rushing past us, the cool night air, the buildings illuminated in the orange hue of stree lights, the pavement under feet, the cars zooming along the road. When we finally reached the other end of the street, we were out of breath. Harry crouched down on the street, heads between his knees, Niall leant with his back against the wall, gasping for air. I stood there, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I didn’t know why, but I began to laugh. And once I had started, I didn’t want to stop.

   Niall looked at me funny, but Harry started sniggering. Soon I was in hysterics. Niall shook his head and rubbed his eyes wearily. Even Harry was staring at me, I didn’t care anymore. Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

   “For fuck’s sake, there you are!” I heard Louis say, and I spun around. The black limo had pulled up on the side of the road. “We were leaving and you three just disappeared!”

   “Sorry,” I gasped in apology, “Niall was still inside, and then I think I sort of headbutted Harry’s date on the-”

   “Yes, yes,” sneered Louis, “We can hear your exciting drama story later. Get in! Rebecca’s throwing up in the back.”

*

   When we reached the hotel, we pulled around the back again, but the paparazzi must realised by now our secret entrance because they were swarming around there too. We managed to smuggle Rebecca in without people realising she was stone drunk. Or maybe they would. When we reached our floor, she disappeared into Zayn’s room for a moment, only to emerge with the news that she had just thrown up in there.

   Zayn suggested we all moved into one massive room with enough bunks for all of us. Rebecca would probably throw up in the other rooms too. I decided I’d crawl up into Niall’s bed with him since he asked me to anyway. We flicked the switch off just as Zayn put Rebecca into the bottom bunk of his. There were four bunk beds. Zayn’s and Rebecca’s was closest to the door along, and Harry’s and Louis’ was right opposite Niall, Liam and I’s bunk. Harry was sleeping in the bottom bunk and so were we.

   “Goodnight,” I whispered to Niall. His blue eyes were shining in the darkness. Oh god, why was doing this to me? He was so gorgeous I wanted to die inside.

   “Gnight babe,” he whispered, kissing me slowly and deeply as though giving me some secret message of what he’d rather be doing if we weren’t all sharing a room. “Love you.”

   I nearly sat up and swore. No, he didn’t say that. Instead I froze in my sheets. No, I distinctly heard him say it. He had said it! Was I supposed to say something back? It’s not that I didn’t feel it, I felt it ever since our first night together. I hadn’t practiced how I’d planned on saying it!

   “Love you too,” I whispered, and he smiled, leaning his forehead against mine. I said it. I had SAID IT! I rolled over on to my side, his arms wrapped around my waist, protectively. I was safe in his arms. For now.

   I floated in and out of the dream realm. When I woke up I heard whispering. It was still pitch black, but I could see Harry moving around in the bunk opposite us. Another figure there too. Stumbling around. Rebecca of course.

   “Rebecca, are you alright?” I heard him ask again, “Maybe you should sit down. Here, sit down.”

   “I don’t want to sit down,” she hissed drunkenly, “Where’s the party, Harry Styles? In your pants?” She tittered, nearly falling over. I raised the edge of the sheet slightly, slipping out of Niall’s arms. He grunted and rolled over on his stomach. I tiptoed across the room.

   “Bec, did I wake you?” asked Harry, rubbing his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

   “It’s OK,” I said, “Rebecca, do you want a drink of water or something?” She shook her head firmly.

   “Nope, I want another drink in hand! I wanna get down on the floor and move it like I’m sixteen again, like you!” she crooned quietly. At least she hadn’t woken anyone else up yet. She started dancing on the spot, flipping her hair wildly. She stopped, breathless, and looked between Harry and I as though we had come out of nowhere.

   “What’s this?” she whispered, “A midnight booty call?” I was lucky it was too dark to see my blush.

   “Rebecca, you’re still drunk,” I said quietly, “You should try sleep.” She shook her head.

   “I don’t want to sleep,” she slurred, “Where’s my baby daddy? My boy toy? Hehe…Zayny come here, you fierce tiger-” I grimaced at Harry who shrugged helplessly. She took three steps and I caught her as she toppled over slightly.

   “Hands off!” she announced, “It’s about the teasing, not the pleasing!” Well, OK, she could just have said ‘don’t touch me’.

   “Harry,” I whispered, holding her upright as she rocked back and forth mumbling like she was going insane. “Can you get her to lie down?” He groaned, standing up with the sheet around him. “God, can you leave the blanket behind?” He raised an eyebrow as if saying ‘really?’. I motioned to Rebecca. He dropped the sheet and extended his arms but I let out a squeak. That stupid fucker, I didn’t think he’d be naked!

   “Put it back on!” I hissed feverently. He leant down slowly and picked up the sheet again. Rebecca let out a low whistle, then started giggling. “Bejesus, who sleeps naked anymore?”

   “You were the one who told me to-” he began, but I interrupted him.

   “Yes, yes, forget what I said,” I mumbled, “She’s on the bottom bunk over there. Help me.” I tried to forget what Harry Styles looked like naked as he helped me shuffle Rebecca over to her bed. We sat her down, and we sat beside her, but she bounced up to her feet. Sighing in frustration, we sat there for a second. I could feel his warmth beside me; I was a little cold. We were both leaning back on our hands, and I think his were brushing mine.

   “Maybe we should give up,” he grunted, standing up, but his face brushing close to mine for a second. His curls tickled my cheek. His green eyes watched me as I stood up too.

   “What, and let her wonder around the room for a little longer?” I whispered, looking at her, then at him. I don’t know why, but I actually was in the mood tonight. Was it because of Harry fucking Styles? It couldn’t be… She sat down on Harry’s bed and we both pounced on her, sitting either side of her and practically physically holding her down.

   “I can hear the beat,” she whispered, “Ba-boom-cha…take me back to the club.”

   “We can’t, it’s too late Rebecca,” I whispered and she turned to me. She scoffed and made a funny noise in her throat.

   “You’re frisky!” she squealed and ran her hand up Harry’s thigh on the other side. He looked a little alarmed, and started slightly. “I can get frisky. With all of you.” Whether this was the alcohol or the lesbian side of Rebecca speaking, I wasn’t sure it should be out at the moment.

   “I don’t feel like playing,” I started but she giggled.

   “Me neither, so let’s get down,” she hooted quietly, jumping up and then sitting on the ground. “You make feel good…” She laughed to herself like a crazy drunk would.

   “Damn, I’m thirsty.” The statement would have been harmless coming from anyone else’s mouth apart from Harry’s. When I looked at him, I was assured he wasn’t only talking about his dry throat. He looked quite sexy in this light, actually.

   “Hey Rebecca, can you go get me some water?” Harry asked, not taking his eyes of me.

   “Sure!” replied Rebecca brightly and traipsed out of the room. Surely, Harry knew that in her state, she’d never make it to the tap. I felt my heart race in that all too familiar way, when I knew something was about to happen. And it did. He was staring at me.

   Gently, Harry leaned over and kissed me, and I almost pulled away in disgust, remembering although he was likable, he was also the least attractive of the five of them.

   His hand was on my back, pulling me over him on his bed. My abdomen felt warm, as I vaguely remember one of his hands was sneaking up my shirt. His kisses trailed to my neck, gently gnashing the sensitive skin around my throat, sending thrilling sensations up and down my spine with the trail of his fingertips at my tailbone. I shuddered involuntarily For some reason, the thought of Niall didn’t surface to my mind. By the time it had, it was too late. His sheets were soft and smooth, just like the one’s on Niall’s bed, but under my touch in his grasp, they were crisp and consuming.

   He was a good kisser, it was one of the few things I could process in my mind in my disorientated state. He always seemed to know what he was doing. The light streaming in from the window was blue and hazy, everytime I opened my eyes it made me dizzy and nauseous, so I simply kept them shut. He was pulling. My shirt was over my head, my bare shoulders burning with the abrupt desire rising in the pit of my stomach. My pyjama pants were pulled off my warm, slim legs, his hands running up and down, taking it the smooth touch of my skin.

   His firm hands tugged me down on top of him, touching me, fulfilling the lascivious thoughts flooding my mind. His movements full of intention and flawlessly executed. It seemed natural for him, every kiss at the perfect moment, every push and pull, give and take at the right place. The gentle pressure of his massaging hands brought me to a slight moan. The pleasure was coursing through my body at an astonishing speed. I finally realised why millions of girls found him so damn attractive. His macho confidence, even his annoying hair and his flirty attitude was so arousing. And even I; who thought I was always so strong; in the end, couldn’t even resist him myself.

   I could feel the stirring feeling rising in me again, as I arched my back, mentalling begging for more, as I leaned over him and scrunched the ends of the blanket in my fists, whispering his name frantically in the dark. It was my blissed release. As I let go, my fingers left creases in the sheets.

   When I peeled my eyes open, I was in someone’s bed. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Niall, wearing a shirt which had ridden up to his chest, and sprawled on his stomach, across the spread, one arm thrown around my waist, the other lying by his side. His eyes were shut, the rise and fall of his back echoing his slow breathing. His blonde hair was mussed up, the roots were beginning to grow back again, darker. I would never forgive myself.

   Gently as possible, I turned back over and stared across the room, right at the opposite bottom bunk. Harry’s. He was shirtless, probably naked under those sheets. His face was hidden, buried in the pillow so all I could see was his thick curly hair. Had I really done all those things with him last night? Could it have been nothing but a terrible dream, which by itself would already be quite alarming, but better than the alternative? I doubted it, somehow. At breakfast, I avoided talking to Harry or looking at him. Niall sat down at the table, yawning. He had handed me an Up&Go and just smiled.

   “Last box in the fridge,” he said. I wondered if I might just die of guilt. I couldn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to hurt him, like I already had. Sleeping with his bandmate. What a slut I was.

   Regardless, Harry seemed perfectly fine. He had put on some clothes, and was his usual smiley friendly slightly flirtatious self. With everyone except me. I didn’t blame him, but what if he told Niall? It would be worse to hear from anyone else apart from Harry. When Rebecca showed up, all dolled up, apparently recovered from her late night stagger attempt to the tap, summoning them to a meeting with management in the suite downstairs, Niall leaned over and gave me a brief kiss on the forehead and got up and left with the others.

   After they had left, I just stared at the box of undrunk Up&Go, and stabbed the straw in the small hole. I reached over and squeezed as hard as possible, so the drink dribbled through the straw and formed a small puddle on the breakfast table. I stared at it for a while, wondering why I was dumb enough to ruin everything i cared about, before I got up and went to my room.

   It was the beginning of the end of us.

 

 


	9. More Than... What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title is based off One Direction's song 'more than this' <3 gorgeous song !  
> but the message of it...well you'll see how the chapter does on that  
> this is the second consecutive flashback chapter! i couldn't afford to go back to the present after what happened last chapter :O  
> trust me, it gets pretty bad. ( and long too! )  
> enjoy xx

__

_Six Months Ago:  
_ _late April, 2012_

 

   Note to self.

   Never underestimate how crushing and consuming guilt can be.

   After that fateful night, I avoided hanging out with the guys as much as possible. Even Niall. Especially Niall. And Harry? Don't even get me started on him. Every time I saw him was another painful reminder of my mistakes, the secret I was hiding from the blonde boy standing beside me who I had met in some twisted coincidence on a rainy night, falling so openly, senselessly, hopelessly for him. Then for some reason, being able to throw it all away in an hour of passion. It didn't make sense to me, why I'd do something so dumb, without seeing the consequences.

   I walked slouched over, as though there was an actual physical burden on me.

   People noticed.

   Sarah did almost immediately. I returned home the next day, and she must have felt something in the air, because next thing she was franctically asking me questions. One's I was not in the mood for.

   My friends, who knew about my relationship with Niall, questioned it at first, but laid off. To be honest, there was not a single person I trusted enough to tell. Nobody beside me to share those secrets, to assure yourself you weren't alone. But I was.

   Niall, obviously, could tell. How could I bare to spend time with him anymore knowing that I'd hurt him so bad? I think I didn't trust myself anymore, to do anything without it hurting him. Oh god, if he knew...

   I made excuses not to hang out with him, time instead spent alone in my room, cringing at myself, wallowing it self pity and hate, and torturing my heart in memories of that night. It was truly pathetic. I was pathetic. Everything I had done, had just passed me a mirror to hold to my face and see what I was. The worst part was, I think I was starting to like Niall. Care about him a lot. Maybe even love him. Just considering it made me cringe again, because the first and only time I had uttered those words to him was the same night I had gone behind his back and tempted myself into another's bed. Namely, Harry's.

   Of all people.

   The most I had managed to spend with him was a brief afternoon until night fell. We walked back to the hotel, in silence, as I had been most of the afternoon. As we arrived at the hotel, there were no paparazzi to snap us. They'd be following us around all day, Niall holding my hand and wrapping his arm around my waist, laughing at the humourless things I said. We had to be image perfect. Even if I had ruined everything.

   As we got into the elevator, the doors closed behind us with a faint 'ding'.

   "Alright, Bec," he sighed, "What's up?" I shook my head firmly.

   "Nothing," I replied shortly.

   "Don't try to deny it, OK?" he said, turning to me, "I've been keeping up this charade all day long, and you'll hardly say a word to me anymore! What's the matter, have I done something wrong?" Oh god, oh god. Had _he_ done something wrong?

   "No," I said quietly, pressing my lips together to stop them curving down to a grimace, "No, you're all good."

   "Goddamit Bec," he said, banging his fist on the side of the elevator and making me jump, "Just tell me what's the matter. I'm sick of you ignoring me. You think I haven't noticed? The times you've turned me down? I don't what I've done, but whatever it is, I'm sorry and-"

   "Don't apologise!" I snapped, "You haven't done _anything_ wrong." Him apologising was the last thing I wanted to hear at the moment.

   "Then what is?" he demanded, groaning, "Bec, you're driving me crazy. All I can think is what the problem might be, and I can't get me mind off it. I just want to know, I want you to be able to trust me with this and tell me the honest truth." Looking back, if the situation had occurred with anything or anyone else, Niall would have the person I'd confide him. He was my best friend, as well as my boyfriend. Now? Now, I wasn't so sure.

   "I trust you," was all I could think to say. He stayed completely silent as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the hallway. He opened the door to his room and we stepped in quietly. I don't know what the arrangement would be tonight, I guess I might be staying with him. He dumped his hoodie on the bed, standing there in my jeans and his tight red shirt. God, he looked so god. Yet so sad. His eyes were intense as he approached me gently.

   "Bec," he said, turning to me, "Whatever the problem is, I don't care. We can fix this, we can work through what we've got, and I'll take care of you."

   "W- Niall," I mumbled, because hearing all the right things I'd usually want was causing me so much pain right now, he was just saying all the wrong things. "What are y-"

   "Come with me," he said, holding my hands and taking my breath away again, "Come with us. The boys and I, over back in England, you can live with me. You can stay, and you can come and study overe there, and get a job, and we'll be together." I didn't know what to say. The suggestion was so outlandish, I was completely lost for words. "Bec?"

   "I-I can't," I said, "What about m-my education? I'm in my leaving year, I can't just grab my things and go at request. Where am I supposed to go once I'm over there? How am I supposed to make a living? What am I going to do with myself?"

   "You don't have to worry," said Niall, "That's why, I've got all this money, and-"

   "Niall, I don't want your money!" I snapped, pulling my hands away, "Why would you even ask me to do something like that?"

   "Because," he said quietly, "I'm leaving soon. I won't be back until next year. Do you know how much a year can change somebody you thought you knew? I don't want to lose you." Finally this subject had come up. About him leaving.

   "I can't go with you," I said, shaking my head. Honestly, my education was not the only thing that had be worried. How could I go with them, spend Niall's own money and waste his time when I had done such a lowly, terrible thing to him? "I'm sorry."

   "You can be in our music videos," he suggested, "You can help out with the band, you can study and work, even get you that modelling contract I was talking about, but we'll still be together. This...this can't be the end."

   "No," I whispered, fear in my heart. I took a clear step away from him. "No, this has to be."

   "What?" he demanded, disbelief on his face, "Are you...are you dumping me?"

   "I can't waste your time anymore," I said, thinking if I broke it off now, he'd just forget me and never have to know. But that wasn't right. No it wasn't. I'd still have it welled up inside me like a gnarly root wrapped around my heart strings.

   "I had never wasted one second," he whispered, coming closer, "Not one. Because I was with you." Tears. They were coming, I knew it. I had to get out of here, this room, this hotel, this city. I had to leave. Because every time I went somewhere, I knew there'd be some memory of him. And those remarkable blue eyes, and that soft voice. His hand reached up and brushed my cheek, a soft caress that I allowed. "Bec, I love you."

   I couldn't do this. How could he be making this anymore difficult than it already was? 

   "Don't," I spat, slapping his hand away, "Just don't, alright? Don't love me, don't care, don't bother. Just forget everything!" I knew it wans't going to work. It was like asking me to forget everything. It was impossible.

   "Bec-" he began, eyes wide in alarm, but I cut across him.

   "You can't love me, alright? You can't...you can't because..." I trailed off, out of breath and desperate. My chest was throbbing. I hated that feeling. What was I supposed to say, because I cheated on you? Because now I know I'll never deserve you? Because I love you back despite that?

   "Tell me," he whispered, "Tell me."

   I can't tell you, I thought, it'd break you. It'd break me.

   I squeezed my eyes and shut and locked the world out for a second. By the time I resurface, he was still staring expectantly at me.

   "There's nothing wrong," I said calmly, "I just don't want your..."

   "You _don't_ want me to love you?" he demanded, with a frown, "Are you stupid? Do you think I can just stop feeling how I do, and just pull it out, and throw it away?"

   "No," I said, but he was getting angry now.

   "You know, I've never told anyone else apart from my mother, that I loved them?" he demanded, his voice rising, "God, why are you doing this to me, Bec? I put it on the line for you, and I thought my feelings were real. You're telling me you didn't feel a thing back? Well then maybe I shouldn't love you then. Because that's what did it for me. I loved you because you loved me."

   I had to stop those words coming from his mouth. I couldn't listen to him talk anymore, because every word was burning me like a scorching flame. Branding itself into my skin, my mind.

   “FINE!” I yelled, “DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHY I’M ACTING LIKE THIS, DO YOU NIALL? OR IS EVERYTHING JUST A MASSIVE JOKE TO YOU?”

   “BEC JUST TELL ME!” he roared.

   “FINE!” I screamed, “I SLEPT WITH HIM, ALRIGHT? I SLEPT HIM!”

   “I-I,” Niall said, his eyes widening and blinking confusedly, “You…you what?”

   “I SLEPT WITH HARRY THE NIGHT REBECCA WAS DRUNK!” I yelled, burying my face in my hands, “I don’t know what I was even doing, I woke up and she was stumbling around the room and Harry was awake…and I, I-” I trailed off hesitantly, noticing how strangely quiet the room had become. I looked up from my hands and immediately regretted it.

   Niall looked like he had punched in the stomach and was trying not to collapse on the ground. His face was all scrunched up, his eyes watering with tears of bemusement.

   “W-what?” he asked, shaking, voice cracking, “I- I don’t understand.”

   “I didn’t mean to,” I said, trying to get out as much as I could without breaking down, “He was just there, and Rebecca left, and he-he…he was staring at me like he wanted to…he kissed me and-”

   “I don’t understand,” said Niall again, shaking his head so fast it was almost a blonde blur. His pupils were so dilated, the black holes almost seemed to have consumed the whole of his blue eyes.

   “I’m sorry,” I said, staring away, as tears pooled in my eyes, “Niall…I’m so sorry.”

   “The night that Rebecca was drunk,” he said slowly, as though I had never spoken, as though I wasn’t even in the room. He spoke slowly and quietly as possible, as if working his head around it. He was staring at a point a foot above my head. “I was in the room the night. We were all in the room that night.” I nodded my head and sniffed, rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed.

   “So,” he said in a calm voice, “You woke up in the middle of night to see…a drunk Rebecca and Harry. You get out of my bed to help them, and when Rebecca leaves, you kiss him and you end up having sex with him on his bed, metres away from me when I’m asleep, in a roomful of my best friends?”

   “Niall,” I gasped, raising to my feet and approaching him, “Please. Forgive me, Niall. Please.” I was pathetic. Every word from me was pathetic. He was still staring at the same spot above where my head used to be.

   “I don’t understand,” he whispered again. He blinked, and turned to me as if suddenly, he had been woken up. “What the _fuck_ do you think you were doing, Bec?”

   “I wasn’t thinking!” I protested weakly, because I knew no matter what I said now, I couldn’t go back and undo it. “I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me…”

   “I don’t give a shit!” he yelled, “Do I look like I care who kissed who? I don’t care! You still fucking slept with my friend didn’t you? When I was asleep, didn’t you? In the same fucking room didn’t you?” He was shaking me now, his teary eyes taken over by some furious anger I had never seen before.

   “I didn’t mean to!” I cried, wrenching myself out of his grip and falling back on the bed. He leant over me, effectively straddling me onto the blankets.

   “Harry,” he hissed, “Of all people you had to sleep with, macho, attractive, flirty, popular, charming, Harry.”

   “We weren’t-”

   “Don’t defend him,” he snapped, “Why are you defending him? You’ve always looked at him differently. I just thought it was disgusted interest. You kept on saying that you never found him attractive or anything, what a lie that turned out to be!”

   “I-I don’t, Niall,” I stammered weakly, “You can’t just say that, I wasn’t- he wasn’t…we were-”

   “What?” he demanded, “Were you drunk, hmm? Funny, I don’t remember Haz knocking back a single glass that night, nor you.”

   “We weren’t drunk,” I said. God, I really should have planned what I was going to say to him. But now I hadn’t, and I realised that even I tried to figure out what to say, nothing could ever justify what I had done to him. I had destroyed him from the inside out.

   “Then what was it?” he whispered, still leaning over me on the bed, this time taking my face tenderly in his hands, his blue eyes staring at me. I couldn’t tear myself away from them. “What happened, Bec?”

   “I…” I whispered back, my mouth hanging slightly open, but I closed it tightly, and gulped. “I fucked up, Niall. I fucked up big time.” He stared at me for a few more moments that seemed to stretch out over eternity. Then abruptly, he climbed off the bed, and walked over to his suitcase, throwing items of clothing that littered the floor into it. I sat up, still slightly winded by the swift turn our conversation had taken.

   “What are you doing?” I asked softly, but when he didn’t reply, I coughed and said louder, “What are you doing, Niall?” He still didn’t respond, but began to squash in his balled up hoodie with frustrated movements.

   “Don’t go,” I whispered, looking down at my feet, moving them subconsciously. “Don’t, you can’t. Stop it, Niall. Stop packing. What are you- I said stop it! STOP IT, NIALL!” He slammed the lid of his suitcase shut with a defeaning finality to it, not even looking at me. He grabbed his jacket, pulled on his Supra’s. Made towards the door. The adrenalin finally hit my legs and I jumped to my feet, but he was already outside in the hallway. I wrenched the door open and grabbed the back of his shirt, but he moved out of my grasp and stormed away.

   He couldn't go. I had to be with him. I'd go with him back to England. I didn't care anymore. 

   Faced with reality that he was leaving, I couldn't bear it.

   “Niall, PLEASE!” I begged, hot tears running down my cheeks, because I was pretty sure I might go crazy if he left now. I didn’t care if everyone in the entire hotel heard. The hallway was so cramped, that it was the breadth of only one person. Tugging his suitcase behind him, effectively I couldn’t jump over it, place my hands on his chest and stop him from moving any further. “D-don’t…just move your- Niall!” He stood in the elevator lobby, finally wide enough for me to approach him. I grabbed his arm and clung on as tight as possible, because I knew now there was no way I’d be strong enough to do any damage.

   “Don’t go, you can’t go,” I hissed through gritted teeth and tears, “I won’t let you.” The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. He sighed, and my heart jumped at the thought of him finally acknowledging me. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something, that glinted in the downlights. It was the spyglass I had given him, a gift, on the night we had first slept together. Like an abrupt flash back, there we lay, on his bed, the moonlight peeking out through a curtain, shining through the spyglass; and he held it up to the light, playing with it gently.

   We were curled up in each other under the sheets, my head resting on his warm, bare chest, his arm curled protectively around me. So perfect. No faster had that flashed through my mind, than the vision of the present, of it dropping from his hand and thudding dully against the ground.

   That alone was enough to distract me, because in the blink of an eye, the elevator doors were grinding shut. I jumped forward, but they closed, and my shoulder slammed painfully into the metal. I staggered back, shocked at how fast he had moved. I jammed my fist repeatedly into the button, hoping the doors would open again, but I knew I was too late. He was leaving.

   Clutching my shoulder, I stumbled back down the hallway, tears blurring my sight, restorting to realise I was no longer able to save him myself. I needed help.

   “LIAM! HELP, LIAM! SOMEONE!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, between noisy sobs, “ZAYN, COME OUT! LOUIS! HARRY! HELP ME, SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE!” A door flew open and Liam immediately appeared, his face etched in concern and alarm. Oh god, thank god he was here. “LIAM!” Zayn poked his head out behind him.

   “Bec, are you alright?” Liam asked with a small gasp, running up to me, “God… you’re crying, come inside, where’s-”

   “Niall!” I spat out, “He’s gone, he’s so far gone, Liam…” My voice trailed off miserably and I buried my face into his shirt, sobbing louder than I cared to quieten down. Liam held me tightly, but I could tell he was so confused.

   “Where did he go, Bec?” he whispered into my ear.

   “I broke his heart,” I mumbled, “I went and screwed it all up. Why? It was so good when we had it, Liam.” I wasn’t making any sense, I knew I wasn’t. He definitely knew I wasn’t, but he didn’t say a word.

   “Where did he go?” he repeated calmly, pressing his lips to my hair. I squeezed him.

   “I don’t know,” I murmured, my eyes drooping, “I’m just so tired of fighting, and he didn’t even look at me, and he threw it away, Liam!” I wrenched out of his paternal hold and stared him dizzily in the eye. His arm caught me as I took a small step back to regain my balance.

   “What did he throw away?” he asked.

   “My gift,” I whispered, then I hugged him. I felt like a needy child again. “The spyglass. He just threw it away.” Footsteps approached.

   “Bec,” he asked softly, holding me so he could see my eyes, “Bec…what did you do?” I faltered.

   “Bec, what the hell is-” Zayn began just behind Liam, but Louis and Harry came out of another room.

   “Who the hell is shouting?” demanded Louis, before landing his gaze on me, “Ah. Of course, drunk are we, Bec?”

   “FUCK YOU LOUIS!” The outburst caught the four by surprise. “You’re always such a little bitch to me, and I don’t even fucking know why!”

   “Touchy,” he said with a smirk, “Where’s Niall, eh? Now you’re loaded up, maybe you can enjoy having sex with him. Otherwise, I reckon it’d be pretty difficult.”

   “Louis-” warned Liam, but I sent such a fierce torrent of profanity at him, it didn’t even matter. Harry stepped forward, and placed his hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down.

   “Bec,” he said soothingly. I jerked away. I knew that voice; he had used it on me that very same night, under the hazy mistake of me foolishly being lured into his bed, into his body, into him.

   “You!” I screamed, jabbing him in the chest with my finger, “Don’t even get me started on you!”

   “Jesus, she’s going off the walls,” I heard Zayn say to Liam in a low voice, but I ignored him, because right now, all my anger and frustration was pented right at Mr. Styles.

   “This is all because of you!” I yelled, jabbing him again, “You have gone and fucked up everything!”

   “What are you on?” Harry gasped, looking taken back.

   “He was going to find out, sooner of later!” I spat furiously, “You know, he’ll never forgive me or look me in the eye or speak to me again? I probably won't ever see him again, hmm? Or any of you for that matter, but really, I don’t think any of you care!” Zayn was right. I was going ballistic.

   “Haz, what’s she talking about?” asked Liam, confused. Harry was staring at me with his bright green eyes, unfaltering. Somehow, this made me even angrier.

   “Stop looking at me like that! Like you expect me to do something for you, or something!” I snapped, shoving him hard into the wall, “That’s exactly how you looked at me, right before you…you leaned over and kissed me! Then fucking _dragged_ me into your bed and screwed me while everyone else was asleep in the same room, including fucking _Niall_ metres away, totally unaware!”

   “What the _fuck_!” Louis gasped.

   “Aww shit,” muttered Zayn, rubbing his head. Harry was still staring at me, his eyes never leaving mine.

   “Harry?” asked Liam, “It is true?” He shrugged, still not looking away from me. For some reason, I could feel my energy slowly ebbing away, replaced by a pounding headache. I groaned and shut my eyes for a second, and when I re-opened them, my world briefly spun. Liam caught as I tripped forward, and I stood up shakily in his arms as the others were murmuring to each other.

   “Louis, Harry, stay here,” Liam comanded. Harry said nothing, but he was still looking at me, it was starting to get a little uncomfortable now. Louis grumbled something, but turned away as if he didn’t want me to hurl another bunch of vile insults at him again. Liam grabbed his coat and Zayn began to follow him. I clung on to Liam’s arm, confused.

   “Where are you going?” I asked, staring up at his face. His brown eyes gazed back at me.

   “Zayn and I are going to find Niall,” he said, rubbing my shoulder encouragingly, “Just stay here with Louis and Harry, in their room, we’ll be back soon, I promise.” I dug my fingernails into his sleeve.

   “Don’t go,” I whispered. I knew Niall was already long gone, and I couldn’t let Liam slip away either. I liked him.

   “I’ll bring him back,” he assured, then like that I was clinging on to thin air, and Liam had gone with Zayn. I knew they would return in a few hours, Niall-less. I looked up at the duo infront of me. Louis looked a little ruffled to be honest, even a little unhinged whether it was at the news of mine and Harry’s late night intimacy, or at the verbal abuse I had recently pounded on him. And Harry was still staring quietly at me, more with curiousity now than anything. I didn’t want to go into their room. I hated Louis, well I’m pretty damn sure I was close to it, and Harry was just being awkward.

   He was also standing in the way to the door to my room. I squeezed past him, avoiding his gaze. As soon as I stepped back in the room, I knew it was a terrible mistake.

   It felt like all the life had been sucked out of it. The sheets were strangely uniform and neat, the floor now only covered in girl’s clothing and make-up and discarded underwear. His large brown suitcase which he sometimes pretended to sleep in, was gone with him, his red Supra’s which always stood at attention next to the door were missing. As my fast-tearing up eyes scanned the room, they landed on the only part left of him that he had dismally forgotten. His guitar.

   I ran outside, back into the corridor, to find Harry and Louis had gone. I slammed the door behind me, bawling my eyes out, feeling like I might as well die right now. Blindly, I ran into a door with the same hurt shoulder, but it was locked, so I tried the next, and finally the third one opened, so it must have been theirs. I ignored Louis and Harry who both shot me looks with raised eyebrows, as I ran into their room, flung myself on the closest bed, curled up in a ball and cried my eyes out.

   I remember once, I had researched the Seven Stages of Grief, for a P.E. health and wellbeing assignment. The first, I can recall clearly, was Shock and Denial, both that I was pretty sure I had dealt with already, though they might resurface again later on. I think I was past accepting the fact that Niall had gone. The second was Pain and Guilt. Right now, I figured, pain was probably the thing hitting me the hardest, from my head to the sore feeling in my chest. The guilt was playing along there somewhere, sneaking in between the pain and striking where it hurts most. I was a fool.

   I knew he and Harry had something of a masculine competitiveness since their American tour, since he had become more popular than Harry with the American girls. I had effectively rubbed in his face, that Harry was farly superior to him. How could I have been so dense? Stage Three was Anger and Bargaining. I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure that barrage of temper tantrum at both Louis and Harry probably is what is throwing them off from talking to me right now. Or just their general dislike of me and my weird emotional state. The hours passed by, and I didn’t sleep, merely kept my heavy eyelids just apart in desperate vain attempt of hope, that Liam would come bursting through the door with Zayn, and I’d see that head of blonde hair again. Even just to see him. I’d take it all back, take back sleeping with Harry and allowing myself to be tempted by the curly-haired freak.

   I realised, that wasn’t fair. If I didn’t want to sleep with him, then I wouldn’t have. Somehow, there was some feral part of my mind that I had slipped into a state where I somehow enjoyed having him touch me, and kiss me. It was my fault.

   Still, I’d take it back, just to know Niall would still be here. The last of the depressive stages is the fourth; Depression, Reflection & Loneliness. That effectively summed up everything about how I felt at the moment. From then on, the stages direct towards the upward turn and acceptance and happiness and shit- not the sort of stuff I was even near ready for.

   My hands groped the bedsheets a few times. Niall should be here. I could almost feel his arms around my waist, lips breathing warm air slowly across my cheek, holding me against him. Over what felt like several depressive suicidals, I managed to crawl up the bed towards the pillows, breaking down about three times on the ascent and crying loudly in between. I was just so tired. The first time, I just started wailing, but muffled the sound with the sheets.

   I think I heard Louis mutter that he didn’t mind if I cried, so I didn’t try to shush up and just continued wailing again. Had Louis really said I could cry? I was probably imagining things. The second time, I thought I had nearly reached the pillows, but they were still dismally out of my reach.

   Frustrated, I started bashing the bed in a futile attempt to cause pain to anyone but myself. Afterwards, I collapsed back down so mentally and phyiscally drained that I fell into a brief sleep, only to be awoken by the feeling of something cold on my forehead. My first instinct was to smack the source, and I did.

   I heard a sharp ‘ow!’ followed by a quieter ‘just leave it, mate’.

   I opened my eyes a millimetre and saw Harry leaning over me with a wet towel pressed gently on my head.

   “You looked a little feverish,” he muttered, finally lowering his gaze for once, though I’m not sure what to. I realised I was only wearing a sheer black singlet with my super short shorts which practically rode up to my ass. I shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t seem to notice.

   “Thanks,” I tried, but nothing came out of my mouth. My throat was parched dry, but he could read my lips and nodded mutely. It was my turn to stare silently at him. I was wrong, and I knew it. He was very good-looking, more so than I cared to admit, and those eyes were just something.

   Eyes.

   His were bright green. Wait, that couldn’t be right. No, I knew it wasn’t. No, but his were blue…

   I scrunched up my face and the tears came abruptly again, my hands covering my face as I felt the shudders that had almost started to fade from my body, rise back up again and wreak through my small figure. The sound coming from me was close to inhuman, so I wouldn’t blame Harry for taking a clear step away from me. Instead, I felt his arms slide under my thrashing frame and lift me as though I weighed next to nothing, and shifted me up the bed, to those dastardly pillows I was trying to reach before.

   Immediately I grabbed one of the many ones and squeezed as close I could to my body, sobbing,

   “Blue…they were blue…” Harry was still patiently standing there, pressing the cool towel to my forehead as I calmed down. I was so unstable, almost anything was capable of setting me off.

   After a while, I concentrated on staring at one curl, just in the centre of Harry’s forehead. Curly hair fascinated me, how it’s natural state was just to tousle up and weave around itself. He didn’t to mind my pyschopathic staring. At the first signs of me starting to think off track to what would most definitely set me off, I focused as hard as I could on the curl, almost glaring at it at times in order to hold on.

   Harry took the towel off my head and walked away, and I would have reached out and stopped him, but he was already gone. I craned my stiff neck to move and saw Louis sitting on the bed next to me, wearing his pyjamas and black rimmed glasses. I was going to say something when to my surprise, Harry returned, this time with a fresh towel. I sighed as he rested it against my head, flipping it over from time to time. My lids fluttered shut a few times but I kept them open. As if sensing this, Harry sat down on the bed at my feet and whispered,

   “You can sleep, Bec. I’ll wake you when they get back.” When they get back. Not if. I looked at him and somehow him just being him brought tears to my eyes. Automatically, he crawled onto the bed, beside me and shushed me in a calming voice. It was different to that of Liam’s. Liam was like a father, but a kind one, who acted paternal and always took control. He was assuring.

   Harry on the other hand, was completely different. He was cool, yet when he did care, it was warming to my very fingertips. He ran his hand across my hair, making hushing noises, lying next to me, which under any other circumstances, I would have completely forbidden. I found that after some time, I could look back into those brilliant green eyes. Oh I was a sucker for eyes. Suddenly, I found a word forming on my lips that I never expected to.

   “Sorry.”

   He blinked in surprise then shook his head, his curly locks trapped between the pillow and his head.

   “It was my fault.”

   “It was me too,” I whispered, my mouth taking time to find the right words, “It was me too, Harry.” He gazed at me for a while, a hint of a smile playing at the edge of his lips. Then he began to lean over. For a split second, I found myself almost letting him kiss me, but that feeling almost instantly turned into panic. I was frozen in shock, yet surely! Louis would save me? But instead, Harry lifted the towel off my face and kissed me gently on the forehead. The gesture was oddly pleasant. He put the towel back and flipped it over.

   “Get some rest, Bec.” And I did.

*

   When I woke again, there was an odd sound, but convinced it was just my unused ears complaining, I looked around briefly confused where I was. The sight of Louis reading in the bed next to me sent everything flying back at me so sharply, that I felt my body move involuntarily back and forth. Yet, the deep sleep I had entered had dulled the pain considerably. I stretched my limbs slightly, feeling more energised than before.

   “Where’s Harry?” I asked in a hoarse voice and I coughed self-consciously. Louis sighed.

   “He’s in the shower, can’t you hear it?” he said exasperatedly in his Doncaster accent. So that explained the funny sound I was hearing. Feeling dumb, I pushed myself into a sitting position. I tensed my leg muscles then relaxed, slowly working my body back to life after being in thick hibernation for hours.

   Who knew what the time was? I couldn’t be morning, could it? Maybe it was early morning. I couldn’t be bothered to ask. I snuggled back into the sheets and Louis motioned to the damp face towel hanging on a small towel rack on the bedside table.

   “He left it out for you in case you woke up,” he said, obviously disgruntled, for some reason. I leaned over and took it gratefully, placing it on my forehead. It was still damp and cool, easing my thoughts. How nice Harry was.

   “You know, he really likes you,” said Louis abruptly and I looked at him in surprise. His eyes were still fixated on his book. I assumed he was talking about The One I Wasn’t Ready to Discuss Yet, so I replied with an innocent enough,

   “I like him too.” Nothing too attached or clingy or needy. I wasn’t sure I was emotionally or mentally ready for this conversation yet, but I sturdied my resolve and made myself listen to him. An awkward pause made me look at Louis who was giving me a strange look.

   “You do?” he asked in genuine disbelief, his perfect eyebrows raising towards his golden brown layered hair. I never told him, but I had always liked Louis’ hair. Even his face. No matter how much I intensely disliked him, he was very pretty at times, even borderline desirably appealing. But ever since the day I met him, he hadn’t said one nice thing to me, the closest was probably calling me Agatha Christie because he could have called me a drug whore or something far worse for knowing all that stuff, so his good looks weren’t really catching my attention. Until now.

   God, I was getting lonely. So lonely such, I was beginning to even notice Louis fucking Tomlinson. I realised I hadn’t answered his question and I quickly blurted,

   “Of course I do.”

   “You seemed pretty upset yelling at him,” he commented casually. God, he must have heard us arguing in our room before he packed up and stormed out. “But…the way he looks at you. Even when you did scream all that crap at him, he just stared at you and didn’t say a word. He acts like a different kind of guy around you, and I thought you didn’t even care. It always seemed like there was some sort of tension between you two. He cares. A lot. Anyone can tell just by the way he looks at you. I think he loves you.” Something about Louis’ comment seemed off, but my heart jumped violently in my chest at his last sentence.

   “Really?” I whispered. “Gosh, no wonder Niall got so pissed off.” He flipped a page in his book non-chalantly. I blinked, utterly confused.

   “What?” I asked, “I thought we were- I thought we were talking about…” Louis gave me a hard look as if to check I was joking or not.

   “I was talking about Harry,” he said flatly. I felt my heart plummet at such a fast rate that I wondered if it would fall out of my ass soon. He was watching my face closely. “Weren’t you?”

   “H-Harry?” I repeated, still in numbness, “Wha- no. No, _not_ Harry…” I thought back to all the stuff that Louis had said, the things I thought he was referring to Niall, when in fact, he was actually talking about Harry. The bathroom door flew open and I winced as the light struck my eyes.

   “Oh sorry, Bec,” Harry said, flicking the lights off. A fog still surrounded him from his steaming hot shower, even seem to eminate from his skin. He was wearing nothing but a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist, and his dog tag slung around his neck. “Sleep alright?”

   “Mmkay,” I mumbled, sinking my head back into the pillows, trying not to think of anything that Louis had just said. He reached over to the wardrobe and nearly flashed me but I groaned inwardly and squeezed my eyes shut. By the time I opened them again, he was wearing a pair of tightly fitted jeans and a white crewneck shirt with a red collar. He grabbed his jacket and said, “I’m going out to get breakfast. Liam and Zayn texted, they’ll be back in an hour.”

   “An hour?” I repeated, “I- what time is it?”

   “Uh,” replied Harry checking his watch, “9:30?”

   “At night?”

   “In the morning,” he chuckled, pulling open the curtains. Sunlight flooded the room and I groaned, rolling over onto my stomach and burying my head in the pillows. I never wanted to emerge. Yet the silent unspoken question was still pressing on me. Where was he?

   “…to MacDonalds, you want anything Lou?” I saw Louis raise his eyes from his book, and for the briefest of moments, I thought I saw…

   “Hotcakes and an orange juice?” I heard Louis respond as I buried my face in the pillows again. “Thanks babe.” What weirdos call each other babe?

   “What about you Bec?” Harry asked, “Breakfast?” I raised my head, eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

   “Eh? Oh,” I said, sitting up again and rubbing my eyes, “An orange juice. And a hash brown.”

   “That all?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “Nothing else?”

   “A soft cone,” I blurted as his other eyebrow went quick to accompany the other, “What? I need sugar.”

   “OK then, I’ll be back soon,” he said, pulling on his white converse and hopping out the door. I wasn’t watching him though, I was watching Louis. Eventually he noticed.

   “What?” he snapped distractedly as if I had caught him doing something terrible. I blinked at him without a word. “What?”

   “Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked shyly smiling at him. He looked at me with the all to familiar look of disgust he most fondly donned especially for me.

   “I’m sorry,” he said, adjusting his sitting position, “But I don’t do my mate’s exes. Or band’s exes, I don’t know. It seems like you’ve fucked everyone in the band.” I found myself laughing at this. I guess I had.

   “I don’t do rebounds either, or with strange girls like you.”

   “Louis,” I said seriously, staring at him with an inch of concern, “Louis- do you even…do girls?” He stared back at me through those thick glasses in a mesmerizing way. Then his cheeks started to turn red.

   “What do you mean?” he demanded, looking away, “Like when was the last time I got laid? A while, I admit.”

   “Louis,” I said slowly, but he kept talking.

   “-doesn’t answer why you wanted to know if I had a girlfriend, which I don’t, but I will get one eventually. Maybe you’re right, I do need to get laid. But this doesn’t mean you’re offering, right? I’m not sure Niall will be happy with that, even with what ever is going down between you two.” I ignored the jibe intended to deter me.

   “Are you-”

   “And what I said about Harry before?” he said, flipping another page, “All true. He does look at you funny. Or maybe that’s just how he looks at all girls. Is it the eyes? It’s the eyes for me. The eyes just do it for everyone. And the hair! Did the curls ensnare you and entice you to crawl in between his bed sheets?”

   “Louis!” I exclaimed, stopping his rambling, “Louis, are you gay?” This time he really did stop to stare at me.

   “I-what!” he laughed loudly, “Where did you get that from?”

   “You look at Harry differently than you look at everyone else,” I said, shuffling on the bed, “It’s true, you do!”

   “That’s why you think I’m gay?” he laughed disbelievingly, “God, it’s because he’s my best mate! The other half of Larry Stylinson! You’re fast to make assumptions, Bec.”

   “When you look at him, your eyes go all tender, and not in a humorous way or anything,” I said earnestly, “You look at him like you could do it all day. With a little smile. And the early formation of a half dimple on your left cheek.” Louis shook his head, but his cheeks were still flushed.

   “Is it hot in here?”

   “Freezing.”

   “I’m not gay!” he protested, sounding furstrated. “I do girls! Hannah, Eleanor, Cassidy…the list goes on!”

   “You did girls,” I replied quietly, “When did you realise that you’re more into soft in the crotch instead of in the chest?”

   “What the fuck!” he exclaimed, “You’re waaaaay more dirty than Niall let you up to be! You were always coming across as the perfect couple, and you were his perfect girlfriend with the perfect face and laugh and smile and taste and attitude, and you were always so happy! HA! Soft in the crotch…” He grinned, shaking his head. Suddenly, it struck me that I was talking to Louis, like having a proper conversation with him…and that I wasn’t even hating it. I might even stretch it to say I was beginning to enjoy talking to him.

   “Don’t change the subject,” I said, “I’m a girl, Louis, my Gay-dar’s still strong and at full power.” At the mention of my Gay-dar he flinched. I didn’t even know that guys knew that Gay-dar’s were. Unless…they were gay.

   “Have you seen my bookmark?”

   “Louis.”

   “Where’s the remote?”

   ”Louis.” He sighed and looked at me for what seemed like the longest possible time. Ever.

   “Do you know why I’ve always been a bitch to you?” he asked finally. I shook my head truthfully. He sighed. “Because I’ve always been scared this would happen. That someone would see through right through me, especially a girl. Danielle seemed fine-”

   “I’m pretty sure Danielle knows,” I said, “She’s smart Louis, but she just won’t say anything. And I didn’t see right through you. It took me a while to come around.” He scrunched up his face and shut his book, climbing off the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom, but emerged moments later with something. It was a tube of toothpaste. He walked up to my bed and held it out to me. I blinked.

   “D-do you want me to brush my teeth or something?” I asked, bemused.

   “It’s the Toothpaste,” he said simply, “I make all my oaths on it, then I use it on special occasions to brush my pearly whites. Reminds me to keep my promises.”

   “You want me to make an oath?” I asked widening my eyes, “Louis, I’d never tell anyone. I wouldn’t.”

   “Swear it,” he said, sticking out the tube, “On the Toothpaste.” Thinking how utterly ridiculous this was, I placed a finger on the Toothpaste’s lid and mumbled an oath not to tell a soul that Louis was in fact very much gay. He beamed, and seemed pleased enough as he stowed it back away. That reminded me of another precious item I thought that I had lost last night. I climbed out of bed, wearing a pair of someone’s trackies and large shirt. I looked down in confusion, and saw my singlet and shorts lying folded neatly on the table. 

   “I folded them,” said Louis, before admitting, “It’s a tad gay.” I grinned, but was still confused.

   “Who dressed me?”

   “Uh, who do you think dressed you?” he demanded, “The only guy staying in the room who’s seen you naked before.” I groaned and wished it not to be true. “Don’t be disappointed. Millions of girls out there are wishing to be stripped and dressed in their sleep by Harry Styles.”

   “Did you see it?”

   “Yeah…well I was reading,” he said, motioning to his book. “He seemed happy enough.” Mortified, I drew my mouth out in a straight line, trying not to show my distress.

   “Did he…did he-”

   “Try anything?” finished Louis, “No he didn’t. That would be technically be rape.”

   “Louis,” I said slowly, “You like Harry right?”

   “Yes?” he said sounding more like a question than an answer.

   “As in gay for Harry?”

   “I don’t know,” he said furrowing his eyebrows, “He’s my best mate, but I don’t think he’s gay.”

   “That doesn’t answer my question,” I said expectantly, tapping my foot. The shirt I was wearing was over large on my shoulders, but actually quite warm. It was a grey t-shirt with the slogan I’M WITH STUPID with an arrow pointing left. The trackpants were saggy and loose, honestly it was quite comfortable, so I was thankful.

   “Maybe,” he said mysteriously, “It’s almost 10:30, the boys should be back soon.”

   “I’ve got something to do quickly first,” I said, opening the door, “I’ll be back soon.” I walked down the hallway thinking about the events that occurred in that very place the night before. I vaguely remember a lot of screaming and blaming and crying. I reached the elevator lobby again, and searched each of the doors for the small spyglass. If he didn’t freaking want it, then I well would have it.

   Just as my fingers latched around the glass circle and I pulled it close to my chest and stood up, the doors to the elevator directly of me chimed open. Just my luck, it was Harry. He grinned at me, holding up the bags of food.

   “Couldn’t wait?” he said innocently. I rolled my eyes.

   “I was just looking for something,” I said defensively with a slightly smile, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

   “I don’t need to, the flattering comes naturally,” he said proudly, “What were you looking for, eh?”

   “Nothing,” I replied quickly, “I-just…nothing.” He was smiling and nodded, but his face clearly said that he didn’t believe me. He held up the soft cone and I broke out into a grin.

   “Urgh, you legend!” I exclaimed, grabbing it and giving it a deep lick, before realising how awkwardly kinky I had just made the situation. Harry laughed it off.

   “This is fantastic. Thanks, Haz.” God, since when had I even started calling him Haz?

   “It’s alright,” he said almost modestly, “I was just getting breakfast for Louis and I too.”

   “No, not just for breakfast,” I said, “But last night too. For taking care of me even though I…I hit you and cried like a baby for hours and acted like a total git.”

   “Naww,” he said wrapping an arm around my shoulder and almost smooshing the soft cone between us as we hugged, “It’s alright. I knew you were upset. Especially about…” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “…you know.”

   “Yeah,” I said quickly, “You heard me, it was more my fault than anything. You were just in the wrong place at a bad time.” He laughed, shaking his head slowly.

   “Oh Bec, it wasn’t a bad time,” he said with a cheeky smile, his dimples showing. I reached up and poked him in one gently. “Ow! Dimple buddies!” This of course caused me to smile and he took the opportunity to repeat the same thing.

   “Ow! That actually hurts more than you think,” I laughed, pushing him away.

   “So, honestly,” he asked, “How was I?”

   “How were you when?”

   “In bed, sweety, about a week ago,” he said patronisingly. I pulled a face at him.

   “How do you want me to answer that?” I demanded.

   “Truthfully,” he said, “Constructive criticism, anything really.”

   “I can’t,” I laughed, “I just…no I- Haz!” He had leant over and taken a massive lick out of my soft cone, though he had technically paid for it and it was therefore his.

   “Mmm,” he said closing his eyes and licking his lips, which for some reason, was quite a sight to take in, “Sweet as sugar.” He opened his eyes and grinned at me. I stuck my tongue out. “You still gonna eat that, sweety?”

   “Yes,” I replied stubbornly, holding it out of his reach, “Yes I am.” He folded his arms across his chest.

   “Prove it,” he said. I made a face, taking another lick of the soft cone. He was staring at me again with a small smile, those green eyes quietly pondering over something in his mind, no doubt. I felt that same feeling of his gaze on me as I had that night, but now I didn’t seem to mind so much. Louis had been annoyingly right, there was some sort of unexplainable tension between the two of us. I had barely gotten my head around cursing damn Louis, when his lips were suddenly smashed against mine.

   It wasn’t even in a painful, bad way, but abrupt and full of passion. His lips were cold. One arm instantly looped around my waist, the other hand on the back of my neck holding me tight against him. At first I felt my body stiffen, but then I relaxed and let it sink into the mould of his grasp. The hand holding the soft serve was out at a reasonable distance to not get squashed between our rubbing bodies, the other was tangled in those irritating curls.

   I began to kiss him back.

   The sound of the elevator chime tore us apart. I stumbled back slightly, dazed by the abrupt feel of him not pressing himself against me. Liam and Zayn emerged, with terrible timing.

   “…hey guys,” said Zayn, looking uncertainly between the both of us. Liam on the other hand, seemed perfectly oblivious.

   “W-where have you guys been?” asked Harry trying to appear calm even though we’d been frantically making out for about five minutes before those two had arrived.

   “We took a taxi all around Sydney, called up every single connection we have. Nothing,” said Liam, “And according to the aerial log, the jet’s been taken out, which means Niall’s gone home, Bec.”

   “Home?” I repeated dumbly.

   “Back to Mullingar for him,” said Zayn.

   “B-but that’s like a 20 hour flight!” I said, not wanting to accept the fact that Niall was well and truly gone. “He can’t have.”

   “There’s no other explanation,” said Zayn, “Maybe…he was a little bit homesick too, Becca.”

   “Homesick,” I scoffed, before I stormed off down the hallway to our- my room. I threw the door open and crawled into the big bed, without realising that this was by far the worse to go and sulk over Niall. I pulled the sheets over my head just as there was a knock on the door.

   “Who’s it?” I asked gruffly.

   “Harry.” There was a brief pause.

   “Can I come in?”

   “If you want,” I groaned, still not coming out from under the sheets. I heard the door open then close, and him walking across the room towards me. The mattress at my feet sagged slightly, so he must have been sitting there, but the next thing I knew, his hands were feeling up the blanket across my body. His touch almost felt like a tickle.

   “Harry!” I squealed, thrashing around under the covers, “What are you doing, you idiot?” I threw the cover off and sat up, breathless to find him laughing. He grabbed me and pulled me into a warm, tight hug. When he let go, the blanket was still wrapped around me like a giant warm jumper. I gave him a small smile.

   “Ah finally,” he said, running his thumb across my cheek, “The dimple buddy is back.”

   “Don’t poke!” I protested weakly, but he merely laughed and pulled me into another hug again. My head rested comfortably on his shoulder, and he turned to look at me. I didn’t know what had happened between us outside, the desperate groping and kissing, and what more, I didn’t know how I felt about it. Something about Harry set me off. Maybe that’s what got Niall to walk out the door.

   Our lips were so close, I felt a yearning to reach up and kiss him again, but instead he interrupted my thoughts with the sound of his voice.

   “Liam and Zayn contacted management,” he sighed, and I pulled away from his shoulder, “They’re not sure how to handle this. We’ve only got a few more days here, nothing on schedule so we’re safe as long as the media doesn’t catch a whiff of anything.”

   “Why did he leave, Harry?” I asked quietly, “Why did I let him go?” I looked down at my hands,

   “You love him, don’t you?” he said, and I shruggd. “I miss him,” I admitted, “It’s my fault though, right? I made the mistake, I deal with the consequences. God Harry, I’m so sorry on how this effects the band.”

   “s’alright,” he said somewhat shyly taking my hand in his, “Here, come and stay in mine and Louis’ room. We’re not that bad company, are we? I know you wouldn’t like it here with all the… memories.” I stared hard into his eyes because he was right, this room itself would make me start crying soon. And his guitar, I almost forgot! Screw it, he can go buy a new one back in damn Mullingar if he wants.

   “OK,” I said softly and he smiled, leaning forward and throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman carry. I emitted a surprised ‘oof!’ but it was actually quite comfy to have him carry me out of the room, narrowly missing my head on the door frame, his arms secured around my waist and legs. I saw Louis give us a look when we came inside but Harry set me down before he said anything.

   “There you go,” he huffed, “Safe and sound.”

   “Thank youu,” I replied with a smile, “So, what are you guys doing today?”

   "I think, we'll enjoy a day on the harbour," sighed Louis, standing up stretching, "Going boating. Let's get a nice boat."

   We enjoyed the day out on Sydney Harbour, but most of the time, I was wondering where Niall was. On the plane home? Had he arrived back in Mullingar already? I was surprised by how understanding and kind Harry was to me all day. And to be honest, him walking around shirtless in boxers all day was quite enjoyable. And wet hair? Urgh. Sometimes, I found myself back tracking, wondering what Niall would think of me admiring shirtless Harry, who had quite a nice set of abs.

   Then I remembered.

   It didn't even matter anymore. 

 

 


	10. Everything About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHA! so the truth...it's out!  
> and bec, where is she now? read the next chapter for the final flashback which fits the last piece of her puzzle in.  
> enjoy xx

_Present Day:  
late November, 2012_

 

 

   Looking back, it was hard to think that all that happened only months ago. It took me four words to turn Niall on me forever, to make Liam dislike me and doubt everything I did, for Zayn to think I was capable of turning into a raging woman if I was spurred on enough, for Louis, for some reason learning to trust me with his secret, and Harry; to turn in to my best friend. Just four words. _I slept with him._

 

   There are some actions which cannot be reversed. I suppose, where I was now was the result of that. I wish there were another four words I could say that would take back it all back. Not all of it; I didn't mind that Zayn thought I was mildly pyschotic, I still wanted Louis to treat me in like a bitch but love me regardless, and I'd never Haz to stop being my best friend. But for the other parts? I didn't want Liam to stare at me, judge by the things I do because of what I did then. And Niall. I didn't want to see the hurt in his eyes every time, or feeling conscious when Haz and I were together beside him, or think that I well nearly broke him with my betrayal. It was almost a heavy a burden as the secret that I initally carried from him.

 

   I sighed, Harry's head leaning on my shoulder.

 

   The week of filming was finally over, and Zayn had been right; Haz's immune system must have been like Superman's because he was up and running by the beginning of day three. He was all better now, and he moved back in my tent with me. I was beyond thankful, because of the stupid thing I done to Niall. Damn it. Could I ever stop ruining the chance I had of repairing what scraps of feeling were left between us? Truthfully, I'd rather him be my friend than not have in my life at all.

 

   We hadn't talked since the kiss. This thing we had going; the back and forth exchange and then fall out? It was becoming annoying. Irritating. Sometimes I just wanted to jump up, grab Niall and yell,

 

   "HEY YOU, LET'S BE FRIENDS, I LIKE YOU!" Because it's true. I really do like him. And I miss him. When I'm near him, I just imagine him hugging me again. The Horan Hug. His smile and laugh too; they make me want to laugh even though half the time I don't what I'd be laughing at. But instead, I just shut my trap and sit their silently because it would be weird.

 

   I knew how the others would react. They'd all shoot my weird looks except Haz, because he seemed relatively oblivious to the constant disparaging silent cold war between Niall and I. In fact, where Niall was in my eyes now was freakishly similar to where Hazza was in my eyes back in Sydney. I disliked him because he didn't like him. Or in Harry's case back then, because he appeared to like me _too_ much. Urgh, how needy was I? Though now I had experienced such heavy emotions that came with the end result, I was wary of anything know.

 

   We were returning in our own caravan, stopping by at Harry's country cabin for a couple of days. And mind you, it was a convenient plan, because the stunning weather which had illuminated the meadow into a perfect set for the final chorus, had taken a turn for the worse. And I didn't mean England weather, which was already pretty crappy, but _bad bad_ weather. The rain was hammering relentlessly against the van, the wipers flinging so fast across the windshield they became a blur but did little to clear the vision of the highway. It was the same van the boys had used for their What Makes You Beautiful music video, because Louis had bought it off them.

 

   Louis was driving, while the rest of us sat in the back, drying ourselves off. It had been a mad scramble to the van in the morning. THe rain was already hitting down in continuous sheets, I was practically swimming through the air.

 

   We even had to dismantle our own tents. Harry and I were crouching on the hill, water sloshing through our shoes and down the hill towards us. We were standing in a land slide zone. Our cold numb fingers were fumbling at the metal poles, trying to get a firm grasp on the tent sheet. At one point, the top sheet flew off and smacked in Zayn who was tumbling past with his bag. He dropped his bag on his feet let fly a curse word, and pulled the sheet off him.

 

   Eventually we gave up, gathering the mass of plastic and metal in our arms and sprinting across the slippery ground towards the van as fast as possible. I nearly slipped several times, the ground was so completely covered in mud it was like walking in a fresh mangrove. We arrived, and stumbled inside the van, leaving a trail of rainwater, mud and leaves and shit on our shoes. Louis was swearing like a sailor (ironic because he dressed like one) complaining about having to clean the van. No one cared.

 

   My hair was soaked through, my shirt was unfortunately white and had become see through in the rain. My jeans were clinging on to me like they were made of clingwrap. I was sure every single inch of skin on me was wet, because every time I tried to wipe myself, it just felt wetter, if it was even possible. I slammed the van door shut behind me and collapsed onto the seat next to Haz. Getting out of the park was harder. Louis kept swearing as he swerved the van dangerously back and forth. The ground had turned into a liquid, slipping and grinding usually under the wheels. He also had no idea where he was going, so that didn't help much.

   By the time we had made it onto the main road, we were all wet, frustrated and tired. I managed to retrieve a few towels we dried ourselves with, and took our shoes and socks off to dry. I felt worse for Louis because apart from getting lost, driving through a 3k long mud pit and having his van ruined, he was still driving, and was probably still dripping in the front seat.

 

   Zayn dozed off, and Haz soon followed. Liam climbed into the front seat to help Louis. My eyelids were heavy and Haz's arms were warm. Then, I looked down and noticed Niall's pair of Nikes. Hmm, well at least he wasn't wearing his nice Supra's today. Next to them lay a pair of white socks. I blinked, a small sad smile spread on my face.

 

   "Hey," I whispered, over Haz's rising head to Niall. He turned and looked at me. I motioned to the socks. "Are those your lucky ones?" He returned the small smile.

 

   "Nope," he whispered back, "Lucky, I didn't right?" I grinned and turned away. I willed myself not to say anything else, because knowing my luck, I'd ruin it. "Hey, do you know when I wore them?" I glanced up, surprised he was still talking to me. He looked nice today, and that growing smile on his face made him look better. Like the rest of us, he was soaked, with water hanging from the tips of his blonde hair. I shook my head.

 

   "No, when?" I asked curiously. He looked down, then up at me again with what was almost a flirty grin.

 

   "The night I tripped and fell in your gutter," he said, then he looked away chuckling.

 

   "Really?" I said, feeling my throat constrict, "Wow. I didn't know." I felt guilty, and he was watching me intently.

 

   “Bec,” he began, but Haz grunted and rolled over to lean on Niall’s shoulder instead. He froze up, but Haz just went back to sleep again. Niall leant back and whispered, over Harry’s curly head, “Listen, we need to talk. I feel bad about what I said.”

 

   “I know,” I blurted, because I really had been dying to talk to him. “What I did was…out of line. I’m so sorry, Niall.” He gave a grim smile, which I returned without hesitation.

 

   “And you were right, we’ve hardly talked since you got here,” he said quietly, checking that Louis and Liam weren’t listening in, but they were chatting noisily in the front seat, too distracted to notice. “I just…I know how you hate it when things get complicated.” I nodded in assent.

 

   “Hey,” I said, “I think that we should just try forgetting everything that’s happened in the past. You know? Turn over a new leaf, whatever they say. Start again.”

 

   “You think?” he said, looking in my eyes. Did he really have to do that when I was trying to come up with a reasonable compromise?

 

   “Yeah,” I said in an attempt of a positive voice, “I think we should. It’ll make everything easier, and truthfully…” I swallowed thickly. Just say the words. It’s not what you really want, but it’ll make everything simpler. To comprehend. “Truthfully, I still want you to be my friend, Niall.”

 

   “You do?” he asked, hopefully. No. But did that matter? I nodded with a smile. He reached over and took my hand. “That’s all I want.” Great. It’s not what I want, but somehow I thought by persuading him into thinking that, then I could slowly persuade myself to. It was worth a shot. And who knows? Maybe I will be able to accept it and move on with him as my friend.

  

   I could feel the gentle pressure as he held my hand. Warm, comforting. As a friend, of course. I almost scoffed to myself. Remember, I was weak? Who was I joking, I’d never make it without being drawn to him. In the beginning, it was Harry who I couldn’t stay away from. Now Niall?

 

   WEAK, WEAK, WEAK.

 

   As I smiled at him, he returned it without hesitation. In fact, I had forgotten in the face of complicated feelings between us, that he was such an easy person to talk to, and so genuinely cheeky and sweet, there was no way I could ever hate him. Behind him I could see the rain wasn’t letting up. But the real storm was raging inside of me.

 

***

 

   "This is your country cabin?" I said in awe as I climbed out of the van. "Haz...it's huge!" He shrugged it off as he helped me out onto the muddy ground. The grass everywhere was covered in rain, and it smelt fresh and free. I loved it. The only problem? If possible, it had begun raining even harder. I ducked under Haz's protective arm and we sloshed our way up to the house as fast as possible. Once we reached the porch, it was alright, but I could still smell the rain and feeling the drops of water scattering across my skin.

 

   The cabin itself wasn't really a cabin. More like a giant wooden house. It was beautiful, and I was relieved to think that it was stationary and there were beds inside, unlike the uncomfortable van we had been riding through all night. Louis was grumbling, and in a bad mood, because he had to drive the entire time. But it was too dark, and we were all desperate to get inside, have a warm shower, and go to bed. Haz fumbled with his keys and eventually pushed the door open. He flicked the old light switch on and it instantly basked the entrance corridor in warm light. We all entered, and I looked around, hoping for a heater or a drier, or even a stove where I could warm myself.

 

   It was _freezing_ in here.

 

   "Haz, where's the heater?" asked Louis, "My balls feel like they're ice cubes."

 

   "I don't know, do I?" grumbled Harry, "I've only been here once, before I bought it. That was months ago." We walked into the living room; it was expansive with a set of black leather couches, an old persian rug, a grand piano, and an oak dining table. Oh how nice being rich must have been. I dumped my bag down beside the door and crawled onto the rug.

   "Oh," I moaned, "Someone pass me a pillow. I need to sleep."

 

   "Careful, dustmites," said Zayn and I sat up quickly with a scowl. "I'm joking Bec. Are you always so moody?"

 

   "Only after I drink, during my period and when I'm tired," I replied, sprawling on the rug, "Does someone have a blanket?" I curled up into a self conscious ball as I realised all the guys were staring at me. I shuddered.

 

   "Well," said Niall, walking over and sitting down on one of the black leather arm chairs, "Might as well get used to this. We'll be staying here for a while."

 

   "Hey, Liam, have you called to see where the girls are?" asked Louis, glancing over Liam's shoulder. Liam shook his head.

 

   "The storm must have stuffed the reception up," he said, "I can't even get a call out." In what was about three seconds, several things happened very quickly. Suddenly there was a loud crack of thunder, and Harry who had been leaning under the piano to check for cobwebs jumped, causing his head to collide noisily with the wooden piano, and eminating an unearthly sound of the untuned instrument to resonate around the room. We all fell silent for the briefest moment. Then there was a zapping sound which made me shriek and grope around blindly for someone to hold onto. The lights flickered out, throwing us into complete darkness.

 

   "Oh my god, oh my god," I gasped, clinging on tighter to whoever's hand I was holding. I wasn't scared of the dark, yes I was scared of tight spaces and bugs and Kermit the Frog. But the dark? Hardly. On this occasion however, a blackout was being thrown in the dark spontaneously without any warning but the consuming black around you. Where I was originally scared of the dark or not, blackouts terrified me. "Someone turn the lights back on!"

 

   "Bec," I heard Louis say in the abyss of black, somewhere ahead of me to my right, "I think the point of a blackout is that all the lights are off."

 

   "No, no," I moaned, burying my face in the leather seat which I was crouched next to, "Oh no..."

 

   "Is everyone OK?" I heard Niall's voice. It was right beside me. I was holding his hand. I almost jerked my hands away consciously, but instead I froze. He gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Bec and I are over here."

 

   "Louis' here, it's all good!" Louis called back.

 

   "I'm by the piano," Haz's voice said from a little to the left, ahead.

 

   "I don't know where I am," I heard Zayn squeak. He sounded even more terrified than me. I looked around, before realising it was futile, seeing as everything looked the same. My eyes were taking a very long time to adjust. I couldn't even see the sihoulettes of the furniture. But the odd sound that followed was more unnerving than any of the previous events that happened within a very short space of time. Silence.

 

   "Liam?" I whispered, hearing the adimant fear in my voice. "Liam, are you there?"

 

   Silence. No, no, where was he? Was he sneaking up on one of us? Niall's grip on my hand tightened. Well apparently he got scared too, not that I was too surprised. His hand was the only part of warmth I felt. And the eerie silence which replied to my calls only made the room feel chillier.

 

   "Liam!" Haz hissed out to the left, "Liam, where are you?" More silence. God, this better not be have been a joke. Suddenly, a bright light illuminated a spot infront of me, so abrupt and shining up on a terrifying face, that I let out a bloodcurling scream.

 

   "SHHHH!" Liam said, sheilding the light of the candle with his hand, "Bec, calm down! It's me!"

   "Liam Payne," I growled, "You scared the _shit_ out of me!" I scowled at him, as I glanced up at Niall who was curled up on the couch seat, still gripping my hand like it was his lifeline.

 

   "I was just finding a candle," he whispered, "You're so easily scared."

 

   "I'm not," I snapped defensively, "Zayn was pissing himself over there." I pointed in the general direction where I remembered Zayn's voice coming from, and Liam slowly walked over, carrying the only light source in the room along with him. I was thrown into darkness again.

 

   "Zayn?" said Liam, "You alright?"

 

   "I'm great," I heard Zayn say weakly as Liam searched him out in the dark, "Someone get the lights?"

 

   "I'll find some more candles," said Liam in a tone which was far too calm. He walked out of the room again, taking the light with him. I heard Louis whisper,

 

   "Is he crazy?"

 

*

 

   Zayn took a shot, and burst out laughing. Candle lights flickered over the four of us, guffawing drunkenly. Just Hazza, Lou, Zayn and I, getting drunk in the blackout. The girls still hadn't arrived yet, though I sincerely doubted whether they would at all tonight. The storm was too fierce, they probably pulled over to stay somewhere for the night. After a while of getting bored, the four of us started playing Truth or Whiskey. In the light of late night entertainment, and sleep-inducing boredom, the guys seemed to have clearly over looked the fact that alcohol and I weren't the best of friends.

  
   “OK, OK,” Zayn huffed, out of breath, his face etched in concentration for a brief moment, before saying slowly, “Alright, best sex of your life?” We all laughed as he plonked the bottle down and spun it. It smacked against my foot and they all crowed at me.

   “Come on, Bec,” urged Louis, in a slurred voice. I threw my arm around Harry’s shoulders.

  
   “Haz is my style,” I said, throwing my head back and laughing loudly, “This one here gave it to me _good!_ He’s number one! And…and…where is he, that little Irish kid? He’s a close second. Very close!” I giggled like a maniac and crawled off Harry as I heard Zayn titter. 

   “Details, detalis,” he demanded, with a foolish grin. I made a hooting noise and sat down heavily on my bum again.

   “Louis, you were there!” I recalled, punching him in the shoulder, “Dumb as a deaf man, as I remember! Or is it deaf as a dumb man? Urgh…” I closed my eyes as my vision swum for a second.

   “Bec?” Haz said, his face looming close to mine as I opened my eyes again. I smiled, tipsy. He was breathing all over my face, I could smell the alcohol in the whisky. “You alright, sweety?”

   “Don’t mind me,” I slurred, “I’m just…remembering that great sex we had. Huh, you remember that? It was pretty awesome. But where’s Niall? He had me first, he knows! HAHA, NIALL!”

   I dropped out of Harry’s arm and rolled onto my back, laughing uncontrollably. Maybe whisky wasn’t the right drink for me. Any type of alochol, for that matter. I sat up so fast, and pointed at Zayn wearily as my head spun.

   “What about _you_ Zayn? The best sex of your life?” I demanded. He chortled and handed me the shot glass, shakily pouring me another cup. I downed it one and let out a long ‘whooo’ as I set it down. That stuff was setting me ablaze.

   “Hands down, a girl I met in a radio station,” he grinned, recalling it as his eyes glazed over, “I talked to her for about three minutes, then we went over for another thirty, if you know what I mean.” I slapped him on the shoulder and pushed the shot glass over to him. He took it, wincing slightly, and setting it down empty without a complaint.

   “LOUIS!” he yelled in a grand voice, “Louis, Louis, Louis! Your go, my sweet sweet Louis.” Louis burst into a series of giggles and slammed his arms onto the ground.

   “Tenth grade english teacher!” he said, “I was one naughty kid, I have to say.”

   “You slept with your _teacher_?” I gasped in disbelief, “Louis Tomlinson, it’s like you’re a new man!”

   “Haz,” gasped Louis as he finished his shot, “You go, since you’ve obviously slept with the most people here, you should have plenty to chose from. So we’ll narrow it down, what about a top five list?”

   “Don’t need one,” chuckled Harry, grabbing my hand, “This one takes out number one!” I opened my mouth in mock happiness as though I’d just been announced winner of a game show.

   “What?” I cried, “YES! YES I’M NUMBER ONE! SUCK ON THAT BITCHES!”

   “Chyeaah,” slurred Harry, lying a sloppy kiss on my cheek, “Harry and Bec endorsing hot sex in the same room as someone else!”

   “Sponsored by Louis Tomlinson!” crowed Louis laughing continuously.

   “We need a couple name for you two,” Zayn said, pointing at us vaguely, “Harry and Bec…Harry and Bec.”

   “What about,” said Louis slowly, “Hec? Barry! Heac. Bearry. BEARY!”

   “That’s so stupid,” I laughed, “That’s the worst couple name ever. It’s not even a word, you dumb fuck!”

   “BEARY, BEARY, BEARY,” chanted Louis, getting onto his knees and raising his arms above his head and Harry and I clutched each other, laughing. Zayn got to his  feet, and Louis swiftly followed. Soon they were jumping up and down, stomping on the ground screaming,

   “BEARY!”

   “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?” shouted Liam so loudly that all of us shut up immediately. The only noise was the empty bottle of whisky rolling around on the floor. “It’s a bloody blackout, and you guys can’t even entertain yourselves without getting stoned drunk! And you!” He stormed over, snatching the bottle up and glaring at me.

   He pointed his finger accusingly at me.

   “When you wake up tomorrow in a world of hurt, you are not going to say one word of complaint, you understand?” he demanded. I recoiled. “God, you’re all crazy.” He stormed back out and I scowled.

   “He’s just jealous cos he can’t drink,” I mumbled, pulling another bottle out of Zayn’s bag. "Another round!" The others cheered and Niall waltzed in, holding a glass of milk. Ha. Milk. Whiskey. I popped the lid open.

 

   "Hey there Nialler!" said Louis loudly, grabbing Niall and dragging him over. He looked far too uncertain, and for that matter, far too sober. "Here- no, put that down, have some whiskey. Bec here was just telling us about you!" I laughed uncomfortablly, because maybe I wasn't so ready to discuss that with him yet.

 

   "Really?" said Niall, shooting me a cheeky grin. Just like how he used to. Maybe it was just my imagination, or the alcohol speaking. "What about?" 

 

   Zayn chortled to himself, and grabbed the bottle from him, taking a free swig.

 

   "Hey!" I protested, "You didn't do a truth, Malik! You owe us a truth." Yes, that's right. Just change the topic, very quickly.

 

   "Fine," he sighed enigmatically, "Shoot me a question."

 

   "Have you ever..." said Haz slowly, "Had a fantasy...about...Bec?" I nearly choked, but ended up laughing. Tears were swimming in my eyes. I was so drunk.

 

   "About Bec?" Zayn replied, with an almost mischievous grin, "A fantasy?"

 

   "Don't dodge around the question!" said Lou, nudging him, "Just answer it! We won't judge you. We're all guys here, well except for Bec. You see in this stage where we don't get laid, hun, you're the only girl constantly around enough that we can fantasise over." I gagged and shook my head.

 

   "You've got to be joking," I scoffed, "I'm not fantasy material. I'm boring, and a massive turn off. You guys fantasise about people who are wild and seductive and fierce." Plus, these guys were like my best friends. It would be weird.

 

   " _You're_ wild, seductive and fierce," said Niall in an earnest voice. I let out a tipsy giggle, leant over and kissed him on the cheek.

   "Thanks babe," I tittered, leaning back and yawning, "Oh I'm getting tired. I might just go to bed. Liam made the beds upstairs, didn't he?" Of course he did, he's Liam, I thought absent mindedly as I stretched. Lou reached over and held me down.

 

   "Woah, woah," he said quickly, "Slow down. Zayn hasn't answered the question yet. TRUTH! Mr. Malik, have you ever fantasised about Bec?" Talk about bloody uncomfortable. Thanks Louis.

 

   "NEVER!" yelled Zayn, taking another swig of whiskey, clearing forgetting the only reason he was confessing was because he had already taken a free swig. "I'm squeaky clean."

 

   "Aw, I love you Zayn," I slurred, heaving to my feet, "Urgh, g'night guys." I knelt down slightly and pecked Haz on the cheek though both our breaths reeked with alcohol. We were so attractive. I whispered good night to him, got up to leave when Louis cleared his throat and pointed at his face.

 

   "Is Mr. Styles the only one who gets special treatment?" he demanded, "Give me a kiss, Bec." I got down on all fours and crawled across the rug where we sitting. I reached up and kissed Louis on his fuzzy cheek.

 

   "G'night Boobear," I mumbled with a grin. I moved on to Zayn, pecking him on the lips and grinning back at him as though I was intensely satisfied with myself. "You too, Malik."

 

   "Sleep tight Bec," he said drunkenly, "Maybe I'll get a fantasy about you tonight." I snorted. Oh, attractive. Finally, I moved on to Niall.

   "Oh, Irish Boy," I said, with a small smile, "You should have played with us. Then you wouldn't be the sober one here." I meant to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, but he turned and our lips connected for a moment. I blinked, wondering if he had done that one on purpose. He smiled at me, affectionately with care in his blue eyes.

 

   "G'night Bec," he whispered.

 

   "G'night Niall," I whispered back, as I clambered to my feet. I turned to the rest of them. "Have fun!" I climbed the stairs unsteadily, holding the candle in my hand. Oh my head was alreayd pounding, but the adrenalin was still consistently pumping through my veins. I had kissed Niall again. I couldn't keep _away_ from him. I had to though, didn't we just have a serious talk in the van about being friends? And I would probably end up ruining it. We had brushed lips for a second time that week. A very... _nice_ moment. No, I thought, cursing myself internally. It wasn't nice. It was friendly. Warm. Just like me pecking Zayn on the lips.

 

   Well, that's that, I thought with a groan as I set the candle down and slumped on the bed in the first bedroom I entered. I crawled into the blankets which Liam had found and placed on each of the beds, wrapping it tightly around me.

 

   But when I dreamt, it was about the things I never thought I would.

 

   My past.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its the FINAL FLASH-BACK~!  
> and you'll be glad to know; ive got one direction tickets for their aus tour next year! EEP.  
> enjoy xx

_Six Months Ago:  
_ _late April, 2012_

 

 

   I don't pride myself on a lot, much less my memory. But there are some things you can't forget.

   It was that very night, of the day which I had spent with the guys on the harbour. I decided I'd stay with them at the hotel for the rest of their time here, and there was no way I was going back to the old room, so I stayed in Haz and Louis' instead. I crawled further into the warm sheets and shut my eyes. Sleeping wouldn’t be easy tonight, I knew it, but I had to try. I heard a noise and opened one eye cautiously. Harry was standing at the end of the bed, pulling off the nothing-but-a-towel look again. He was smiling down at me and I groaned,

   “What?”

   “You’re sleeping in my bed, deary,” he said, and I mumbled something inaudible into my pillow as he dropped the towel and climbed in next to me. “Too bad, looks like we’ll have to share.” I turned and blinked, realising that he was lying next to me on the small bed, wearing nothing but- well, nothing. Just the thought made me uncomfortable.

   “I-I can go back to my room, you know,” I stammered uncertainly, “I don’t want to-”

   “Stay,” he urged, giving me a lopsided smile, “I’m not that bad of company, am I?”

   “Well then put on some clothes!” I cried, sitting up, my cheeks flushing red, “It’s weird sleeping in same bed as you while you’re naked.” He grinned at my discomfort and reached up to pinch my cheek.

   “Aww you’re so sweet,” he cooed, before throwing back the covers. I instantly slapped my hands over my eyes and waited until he returned, still wearing only a pair of thin white boxers. “There. Clothed.”

   “Partially,” I growled.

   “Oh come on, this is like fully clothed for me,” he said slowly, in his usual strangely seductive voice, sinking back into the sheets. “It’s a little chilly, isn’t it?”

   “That’s why people wear clothes to bed,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

   “Yes, yes, whatever you say,” he grinned, looping an arm around my waist. I shot him a look but he sighed, “Just relax, Becca. I’m not going to grope you while you sleep. Unless you want me to.”

   “Urgh,” I murmured, but I pressed my lips together tightly to stop me smiling. I turned over to see Louis looking us with a raised eyebrow.

   “Can we sleep, or do I have to endure this lover’s bicker for a while longer?” he inquired.

   “It’s fine,” I said, rolling on to my side, “G’night Louis. G’night Harry.”

   “Night Bex,” said Louis, reaching over and flicking the light off. I saw him roll over and face the wall, and within a few minutes, he was out like a light bulb, snoring noisily. I felt Harry shift next to me, his arm still around my waist. The sudden feel of his breath on my neck made me jump.

   “Shh,” he hushed, lips inches from the back of my neck, explaining what all the shifting was. He had inched his way across the bed so that we were lying against each other, and he was holding me. I was spooning with Harry Styles. Urgh. But something else was bouncing around my mind so fast that I couldn’t quite grasp the emotion. The touch of his other hand on my bare leg alarmed me at first, but it rested there innocently, not moving up or down. After a while, I relaxed slightly, but my heart was still racing in my chest.

   “Your skin’s so smooth,” I heard him mumble in my ear, and I felt an inexplicable shudder run up and down my back. He chuckled, as though feeling me move under his words.

   “I moisturise,” I replied in an attempt of a removed, flat tone, “Everyday.”

   “Hmm, really?” he said sounding mildly surprised, but as though his thoughts were somewhere else apart from my moisturising habits, “So do I.” It was my turn to chuckle.

   “I wouldn’t believe it Styles,” I smirked, turning my neck to look at him. His brilliant green eyes were staring straight at me. “Your skin is rougher than sandpaper.” His face loomed closer to mine in the dark, and I felt him press his abdomen to my lower back.

   “Really now?” he said with a suggestive smile, “Want to check?”

   “Maybe I do,” I whispered, finding my gaze dropping between his eyes and his lips. He smirked as if he knew what I was doing and I snapped my head back around. Stupid attractive, arrogant bastard. His hand began to move up my leg, caressing with such gentle care I found myself biting my lip to stop myself from moaning. With the lightest touch, his fingertips trailed up across the rise of my hip and the fall of my waist and further up my body.

   Despite the fact that he was turning me on incessantly, I could feel his breath becoming more jagged and his body trembling slightly. His crotch was pressed tightly against my lower back, but I could feel it getting harder and firmer. I want to reach up and rub the warmth back into my arms, which were covered in tiny goosebumps.

   “H-Harry,” I whispered hesitantly, “I can’t…you can’t do…”

   “Bec,” he whispered back, warm breath hitting my neck and causing me to shudder again. “Bec…I want y-” I turned and stopped his words with my lips.

   I had kissed him this time. He let me in with no hesitation.

   I could taste the minty flavour of toothpaste on his coarse lips. I had a fleeting thought that the feel of his mouth would forever remind of this night before breathing became an issue and we both had to pull away. I turned so I faced him, his green eyes catching mine. How on earth had it come to this?

   How long had…had Niall been gone? Could it only have been 24 hours? Yet, my mind could only process the thought of Harry and I, breathless and staring across the tight space between us, hypnotised by each other. He sat up and I mimicked him, so we were propped up, face to face with our legs crossed. I just stared at him. It hard to think I had found him ugly only a few days ago. The moonlight was peeking through the curtain and forming shadows across his face, and it explicably reminded me of the first night we had held each other.

   I blinked, and something must have triggered us, because in an instant, I had lunged across onto him, and his lips met mine with a crushing force to rival the aggressive hunger that had consumed me. Our lips crashed over each other without a pause or hesitation, only to be fuelled by the sound of our sharp gasps of air between the crazed kissing. My tongue lashed out against his as I felt his hands grip my waist tighter than before and pull me closer to him, and I held his face in my hands as I leant over, threatening to push him over the edge.

   One of his hands tangled itself in my long hair, pulling me away from his lips, gasping. The other pulled me even closer, so I unfolded my legs and mounted him, still sitting. His eyes flashed, and his lips lowered to my neck. The feeling of his infuriatingly light pecks on my neck was brought to a sudden halt as he attacked my collarbone and I felt a deep moan work itself up my body. I would have a hickey. I would have about fifty hickeys by the feel of him on me.

   It was amazing, and now both his hands were at my waist again, relentlessly tugging me closer as though I would disappear from his grasp if he didn’t, grinding the warmth of his still rapidly growing hardness. My abdomen had that strange warm feeling of adrenalin rushing through it, and I was pretty sure I was more ready for him than I had ever been for anything.

   “Don’t tease,” I moaned, wondering if Louis would wake up soon to find Harry and I gripping each other like we were holding on for dear life. “H-H…” My sentence trailed off before my lips could form his name, as he finally raised his lips from my neck and kissed me passionately again. I realised I was trembling, and as his bare arms encircled me, that he was shaking too. The tension today had been incredible, and now it was cascading out of us like an avalanche.

   My fingers raked down his back and I felt him shake, pressing deeper into the relentless kiss. When he came up for breath, the lack of oxygen made my head spin.

   “Take it off,” he mumbled, lips brushing my cheek, “Off Bec, t-take it, take it o…” His arms brushed the large shirt he had leant me over my head, discarding it to the side, his rough hand massaging the small of my back and running up my smooth skin, and another kneading one of my breasts, as a deep throaty noise escaping his lips between a kiss. He gripped the back of my neck with one hand to hold me in, and the other was fumbling with the pull string on my trackpants. His fingers were repetitively brushing against me as he groped the waistband and began to tug them downwards. I dug my nails into his shoulders and thrust my hips forward, rocking back and forth on his member making him groan something into my lips. I smirked, Harry freaking Styles. He had no idea.

   “What?” I hissed into his ear, “Keep it down.”

    “What?” he murmured, breathless, staring me deep in the eyes, before kissing me furiously again. I pulled away.

   “Louis’s lying two feet away,” I growled, but one of his hands was distracting me as he pinched one of my nipples between his fingers, making me emit a pathetic whimper.

   “Nothing we haven’t done before,” he whispered seductively. Oh god. I reached down with one hand and pressed it against his warm crotch, feeling the rise and fall of it through the thin white cotton. He groaned into my lips again, and grabbed my hand, and forced it to the back of his neck. Instead, I trailed it down the front of his naked torso, slowly dragging out my fingernail to leave a path past his collarbone, circling his chest and winding down to his firm abs, which were damp with sweat. I could feel his right hand slowly edging the trackpants past my waist to my arse, and my hips bucked at the feel of cool night air on my lower back, only to be quenched by his fingertips running up and down over my tailbone which he knew drove me completely insane.

   I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled out of his possessive embrace, leaning forward to trace the edge of his ear with my tongue, while grazing discreetly over the bulge in his boxers.

   “What are you doing?” he demanded, his green eyes looking into my own. “Can you not feel how much I want you already? Do you want this to be over before it’s even started?”

   I blinked at him. I took a deep breath and licked my lips. Slowly.

   “No. I want you to fuck me.”

   “Then you should have said,” he replied with a smirk, before violently pulling off my trackpants, realising that there was no material separating his hands from my skin, tossing it away. His hands pressed against the curve of my back, and I rose to my knees over him, so he looked up at me.

   “Take off your boxers,” I whispered, wrapping a lock of curly hair around my finger, “Do it now.”

   “Do what now?”

   “Don’t- don’t play with me, Haz,” I said in a low voice. I grabbed his boxers, pushing them off him and down his firm legs, tossing them off the bed. I kneeled back up, looking down at him. He was still smirking, the stupid, horny, egotistic idiot. I hooked my legs around his waist, and I could feel him positioning his rock hard cock against my entrance. I shouldn’t have talked, because it would make me appear weak, but the words slipped from my mouth.

   “I-I need you,” I whispered, and he cocked his head for a split second, before he entered me with such ferocity and intent behind the effort that I couldn’t stop the cry escaping me at the feeling of being stretched beyond normal. He buried his head into my neck, moaning into me. God, we were weak. I struggled for a bit, while he simply stayed still, but he didn’t budge. Soon I was in fact begging him to take me. I wanted it hard and fast, and I couldn’t get enough of him. Just the mere feeling of him enveloping me entirely was overwhelming, to the scent of his sweaty skin. Why had I ever considered this to be a bad idea?

   “Harry, please…”

   “Please what, babe?” he asked huskily, rusty from doing nothing but groaning.

   “Please…just-”

   “Just what?” he asked pressing his forehead against mine, and I could feel him actually pulling out slowly. Urgh, what a tease. Desperately, I took my turn and kissed him brutally on the neck, biting down and sucking the delicate skin between my teeth. He let out such a deep uncensored moan that I was almost certain that Louis would have awoken.

   But it was enough. He slammed back into me harder than before, the aggressive and vicious feel behind it leaving me gsaping. I could feel him tipping me backwards onto my back, as he leant over me, slowing his pace to a lazy grind. “Ahh,” I groaned, digging my nails into his shoulders,

   “D…don’t stop fucking me, Haz, please. Oh god, I need you so bad.” The unrestricted words tumbling from my mind to my mouth seemed to spur him on as he began to increase his pace, pushing me further and further back across the bed with his excitement. The feeling was so utterly consuming, all I could do was try to remember to breathe. I clenched against him tightly, as he adjusted to strike in the same spot which caused ecstasy to course through my body continuously.

   The pleasure caused moans to fill the room ceaselessly, and I didn’t even mind if anyone heard anymore. I was enjoying everything to much to care. I was quickly losing it, the control over my body. He was pushing me to the edge, and I squeezed my eyes shut as another wave of indescribable pleasure shot up my spine.

   “Don’t you dare come yet, babe,” Harry muttered in my ear, his voice dripping with lust. “I want you to wait til I say you can.” Was he crazy? He was too good, how could he possibly expect me to hold on to anything much longer? I grinded him deeper, I was so close he nearly made me fall apart just by saying I couldn’t. He kept doing wonderful dirty things to my body, and I did my best to hold back. He leaned over my aching body and continued doing the crazy thing to my neck, his hands forcing mine above my head, rubbing his chest against me, and the upper of his crotch against my sensitive area.

   I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t handle it anymore. My hips bucked against his and I had the sense to bury my face in his strong chest as I came violently around his achingly hard member. My own climax pushed Harry over the edge, and I relished the feeling of him completely letting go.

   “Say my name,” he whispered desperately, his hands hooked around my thighs pulling himself as deep inside me as possible.

   “Harry,” I whispered back, joining us one more time in a turbulent kiss, our swollen lips reaching each other as the unison of our muffled moans climaxed with our shuddering bodies, as I bit my lip, letting the final feelings of incredible pleasure crash over me. His strong body gently released from me, collapsed on the bed beside me, and we both gasped for breath like we had run a marathon. He got up eventually, lifting me with tremblingly weak arms and carrying me back up the bed, tucking the blanket around us, quivering with the euphoric feeling coursing through us. He wrapped his arm back around my waist, snuggling up to me, as he laid a kiss on the back of my neck.

   For a moment I was foolishly happy, the next I was fast asleep, little did I know how much I would regret what we did when I woke up.

 

*

 

   The next morning was vividly similar to the morning I had woken to find that I had destroyed every hope that Niall could love me while knowing the truth. The sound of the shower was running, and Louis was sitting in his bed, reading that book again. How slow was he at reading? It seemed like that he did. Just as I peeled my eyes open and stretched my limbs, the feeling of soreness made me groan. Louis’ eyes flickered to me and he smirked.

   “Oh look who’s awake,” he said, “Sleeping Beauty.”

   “It’s too early to be a bitch, Louis,” I replied snarkily, gripping my head. I was tender everywhere. My neck, my arms, my legs, my lips and even down there. I realised that I was completely stark naked, thankfully concealed under the blankets. Last night was completely wild, but it made me feel oddly liberated.

   “Hmm,” he said with that unrelenting smirk, “I thought only Harry slept naked.”

   “Change of mind,” I muttered, blushing. I sat up, pulling the blanket to my chest protectively, but I shouldn’t have worried because Louis was gay anyway, so I don’t think he’d care. I rose unsteadily to my feet, dragging the blankets around me. They were heavy, but I didn’t care.

   “Seriously,” Louis said as I approached the mirror, “I was pretty sure you made Hazza put some boxers on last night? And you were fully clothed. Not to mention the crazily discarded items of clothing across the room. I found your bra on my pillow. Who the fuck can even throw that far?”

   “Louis,” I said in a begging tone, turning to look at him, “Don’t tell anyone, please.”

   “Come on Bec,” he laughed, “I don’t need to tell anyone anything. They all know already.”

   “W-what?” I stammered widening my eyes.

   “Uh, tension between you and Haz all day long yesterday? It’s sort of assumed by Liam and Zayn that you’re fucking him,” he scoffed, shaking his head, “Naïve.”

   “I- I wasn’t!” I protested.

   “Well you kind of just did,” he pointed out, “You should have seen him when he woke up. All happy and bouncy and shit. His dong was flying everywhere, but he was in a very good mood. You must be amazing.”

   “I’m not,” I mumbled, my hair falling infront of my face, “He is.”

   “What’s that?”

   “Nothing,” I said louder, and shuffled the rest of the way to the mirror. I leaned over, taking in the image infront of me. I groaned as my free hand pushed my hair out of the way. My neck was covered in small love bites, I sort of looked like I’d been attacked in my sleep by a vampire. Or a very horny Harry, either way.

   My lips were red and more pouty than usual, swollen from the forceful kissing. My hair was mussed up and thickly layered. I glanced over my shoulder at Louis, who had returned to his book. I opened the blankets and looked down quickly at my body. I gasped and hugged it back around me. Small red marks around my waist and hips where his fingers had clung onto me. I didn’t even want to know what damage I had done to him.

   “You know for a minx in bed, you’re pretty self-conscious,” Louis commented casually. I glared at him and shuffled back to bed.

   “You didn’t hear anything did you?” I asked nervously, “Last night?”

   “You’re lucky I’m a deep sleeper,” he replied, shaking his head, “I could have woken up and broken the sexual tension with an awkward joke. Were you noisy?”

   “Noisy enough to wake the dead,” said Harry from behind him. Louis and I both jumped and he grinned at us, holding his towel around his waist. He walked Louis’ bed and approached me, holding my face in one hand and kissing me deeply. It was so sensual, the feel of his lips on mine, and I tried hard not to get turned on, because it was way too early in the morning for that to happen. I heard Louis gasp behind him.

   We pulled away and looked at him, but his eyes were wide, staring at Harry’s back.

   “Haz, maybe you should…” he trailed off. I grabbed Harry’s waist and spun him around, as my heart dropped.

   “Oh my god,” I gasped, “Jeeeez-”

   “You two must have been at it like animals!” laughed Louis raucously, “Go on mate, take a look, she’s left little scratches all over your back!” I groaned and fell back on the bed. Harry’s back looked like he’d been jumped by mini Edward Scissorhands. My nails that I had been raking repeatedly across his back had left red paths down his spine. Small but deep cuts lined his forearms where I had dug my nails in like I had been searching for gold. I was beyond embarrassed, Louis couldn’t control his laughing, but Harry looked merely curious as he craned his neck to look at his back. He looked up and grinned sheepishly at me.

   “We were a little rough,” he admitted, before adding playfully, “But that was your fault, you came on to me so strong.”

   “Ha!” I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “And you were just…lying there?”

   “I always am,” he replied with a cheeky wink, and he ran his fingers along my neck with a crooked smile. “You might want to wear a scarf when you go out today.”

   “I think I will,” I said with a breathy laugh as his fingertips left my skin, “You might want to put on a shirt.”

   “Ha!” he laughed, “Nice try. We all know you’re not that optimistic.” He grabbed a pair of white pants, a black belt and the grey shirt of his that I had sported all of yesterday. I watched him dress silently, and I regarded Louis doing the same thing. Harry said something about getting breakfast and sauntered out into the corridor, and I jumped up to call,

   “Wait up!” Before realising that I was still completely naked, and he had taken most of my clothes. I pulled on my underwear and snatched my bra from Louis, stumbling out into the hallway still clutching the doona to my body. Harry turned, eyebrows knitted in an attempt of reproach, but I could tell he was fighting back a smile.

   “You’re not wearing clothes,” he said, shaking his curly hair, I scowled at him.

   “And who’s fault is that?” I demanded, giving him a nudge. He drew his shirt over his head, and tossed it to me. I pulled it on, giving him a thankful smile. It reached half way down my ass. We walked down the corridor towards the kitchen, me still dragging the thick blanket behind me. He started making me breakfast, and I sat down on the couch, turning the television on. I flipped through the channels, and finding nothing decent was on, I flicked to the recorded shows to find a long list of One Direction interviews all recorded.

   “…Haz?” I asked over my shoulder. “Do you guys…record your interviews?”

   “What?” he asked walking over with a plateful of bacon and eggs. He sat down next to me, leaning back. “Oh yeah we do, it’s funny to watch sometimes. When we’re bored or down or anything, we just curl up and watch them. It’s hilarious.” I grabbed his fork and shovelled half the egg in my mouth. “Oh god you eat like…” I stared at him expectantly with a mouthful of egg and swallowed. He blinked and didn’t finish the sentence.

   I turned back to the tv, brushing off the awkward pause.

   “To be honest, I’ve watched most of them,” I admitted, flicking through the videos, “Oooh, except this one!” I pointed the remote and pressed PLAY at the screen as One Direction’s interview with the Late Late Show began to play.

   “Bec-” Harry began, “You might not wanna…”

   “It’s fine,” I said dismissively. _He_ never was the main focus during interviews anyway. I could just enjoy it along side Harry. As the interview begun I realised how desperately wrong I was. It was with an Irish network, and it was during the period where the band must have been touring in Ireland. Who more to focus on than Mullingar’s ‘crown jewel’? Just sitting their mutely, watching him talk endlessly about everything from girls to buying his mother a car. Maura. When her boy was back in her arms, she’d never have to worry about me again?

   I could tell Harry was watching me so I hid any emotions from my face. It hurt inside more than anything. His voice. His smile. His laugh. At one point he nodded his head while grinning at the audience who was cheering. The fleeting smile and nod was so breathtaking that I felt a breath hitch in my throat, and it turned into a slightly staggered gasp.

   God, I missed him. I had been distancing myself from the thought of him so much, I had forgotten how much I cared. Not just about him, but the idea that I had hurt him. And what of last night? How goddamn hopeless could I be!

   “Bec…?” said Harry quietly as the program ended. He set his plate down on the table, and I noticed he had kindly left a few pieces of bacon for me to gorge on, but I wasn’t hungry. I rose to my feet and stumbled back towards my room, but he caught my arm and I shook him off angrily.

   “Stop it, Haz!” I snapped, “Just let me go. I’m fine.”

   “You’re not fine,” he replied, his shoulders falling. I didn’t even care anymore. I pushed past him angrily but he pulled me towards him so fast and unexpectedly, that I stumbled and slammed into his strong chest. I felt the air being knocked out of my lungs as my eyes slowly rose to meet his. Breathless, the only thing that jolted me out of the moment was the sound of Liam’s voice.

   “Hey guys, m-” he began, but stopped with a raised eyebrow. Zayn was right behind him, but was rubbing his eyes wearily. I pulled my arm away from Harry and took a step away from him.

   “Morning, Haz. Sleep well, Bec?” Liam said it in such a way, that made me suspect that Louis might have been near well deaf last night.

   “Fine, thanks,” I said flatly, “I’m going to my room.”

   “Oh,” said Zayn to me, “We had room service clear out your room last night and move all your stuff to Harry and Louis’ room. You seemed fine there last night anyway.” At least Zayn’s comment had less bite behind it, more a light teasing.

   “Mhmm,” I said, avoiding their eyes, “Right. OK then, I’ll go back to Harry and Louis’ room. Enjoy breakfast.” I brushed past them, but I knew that Haz wasn’t the type to let things go.

   “Bec,” he said, hurrying after me as Liam and Zayn retracted to the kitchen to get food. “Don’t ignore me. Come on Bec, please just talk to me.”

   “This!” I spat furiously, “Is how I felt the night that…urgh! I don’t want to talk, Haz, just leave it alone. I’ll be fine.”

   “How long ago did he leave?” he asked.

   “Two days,” I answered automatically, before biting down on my lip, feeling embarrassed that I had known the answer so quickly. “It doesn’t matter. Leave it, Haz.”

   “No,” he said shaking his head, “We need to talk, you know. We can’t just push this, literally, under the covers and hope it goes away.”

   “Shh!” I hissed, “I never said that I wanted it to go away.” I closed my eyes, realising how badly that had come out of my mouth. Like it sounded that he had a chance. “I mean- I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I know, Harry.” He brushed this thumb across my cheek again.

   “Liam and Zayn know,” he said after a pause.

   “Of course they know,” I replied brusquely, “Liam obviously doesn’t approve of it, and Zayn thinks it’s hilarious.”

   “Louis finds it amusing too,” he added, “Funny, I thought he would have heard us.” A blush worked itself up my neck to my face. “Aww, sweety…” he mumbled into my hair as he hugged me tightly. I let him and I clung on a while longer, breathing his constant scent of new clothes and freshly washed sheets. Eventually we pulled apart. His lips were inches from mine, pouted slightly and his tousled curly hair was begging me to run my hands through it. His breath danced across my cheek, and his grip on my waist tightened, tensing our bodies.

   “Yeah,” I whispered with a shaky laugh, “We really do need to talk. About this.” He stared into my eyes for a long time, then sighed deeply.

   "Bec, there's something you should know." Oh there's always a catch, isn't there? "We're...leaving. This afternoon."

   "Leaving?" I repeated blankly, surprised. "Where you going?"

   "...New Zealand," he said, his hand on my shoulder, in a careful voice, "You know? To finish our tour?"

   "Wh-wait! You're leaving today?" I demanded in shock, "Like...this very day today? No, but...you can't! W- I thought you guys were staying for a few more days."

   "No," said Haz shaking his head sadly, "I'm sorry, Bec, but it's today." I stood there, opening and closing my mouth like a dying fish, with no words coming from my mouth. I turned and walked slowly towards Niall's room, clearly so braindead I forgot I should have avoided that room completely. I heard him follow me in calmly, as though waiting for to collapse or explode. But truthfully? I didn’t really feel like doing either. I had reached some vague, nonsensical stage where I seemed to have finally mastered the ability to control and accept what was happening around me.

   That the boys were leaving. And I probably wasn’t going to see them ever again. I sat down on the bed and Haz sat next to me, taking my hand cautiously as though he expected me to lash out at him. “I should have expected it,” I said with a small smile, looking at him,

   “This would have happened eventually. You guys leaving. Even if the entire…episode with Niall hadn’t happened.” He seemed taken aback by how calm I was.

   “You’re not gonna- yell or anything, are you?” he asked. I let out a short laugh and shook my head.

   “No, I won’t,” I promised, staring into those eyes. Green. Not blue. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you guys so much. Even if I only you because of…” God, could I not say one sentence without managing to mention him?

   “No one blames you, you know that?” he said quietly. I couldn’t help but think how wrong he was. They would blame me, and I didn’t even blame that for that.

   “Oh Haz,” I sighed, with a crooked smile, “What, because it was with you? You heard me, didn’t you? It was my fault, and you had no part in it.”

   “No part in it!” he chortled, “No, it was just you who had sex, and I wasn’t present at all. Come on, Bec, you can’t take all the credit for that. And when you were shouting at me, I think you were just being bluntly straightforward.”

   “Don’t!” I protested, “I was just being rude, Haz.”

   “No, do you remember what you said?” he asked, and I really couldn’t. I shook my head. “Something like…he’d never look at you… the same again because of what you did, and that I always looked at you like I expected something from you.”

   “Urgh,” I groaned, beyond embarrassed, “Haz…”

   “It is true though,” he admitted, “I'm sorry about the staring. You were always just so...beautiful but out of reach. But now with that aside…when we leave, I don’t want to forget you.” My eyebrows knitted themselves together. How good he was with dishing out compliments to cover his tracks. Like the fact we had sex last night _again_ despite the fact that I only could because of the first time. Not that I could now, anyway.

   “You don’t have to forget me,” I replied gently, “But…you have to promise me that you won’t let this issue…of us, get inbetween you and Niall.”

   “I won’t,” he promised. “He’s so forgiving, Bec. If he just stayed around for a litte longer, I bet he would be over it by now. See, if it was me I’d never forgive you. No offence!” he added quickly when he saw my face, but I laughed.

   “No Haz,” I sighed, “He shouldn’t ever forgive me. What I did was wrong, and if he did, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself either.” We sat a little while longer in silence, and I stared out the window.

   “I’ll miss you,” I said slowly, because it was true. In these past two days where suddenly Harry Styles wasn’t the evil, attractive, do-bad one, we had hung out so much, I couldn’t help but like him. To be his friend.

   “I’ll miss you too,” he said, “We all will. Even Niall will.” I wanted to snort, but I held back.

   “There’s not one thing I gave him that any other girl could give him,” I said bitterly, “He’ll be over me faster than a bullet. And you know what? He deserves it. Better than me. At least now he knows that.”

   “You deserved him,” said Harry slightly, cocking his head, “But…when we come back here for tour next year, then we should meet up and we’ll-”

   “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head again; something I seemed to doing a lot. “Don’t get my hopes up. It’s OK, it’s alright, just to say that we probably will never see each other again.”

   “But we can,” he said. “In a year’s time?” I asked disbelievingly, “Let’s face it, Haz, I’ve had enough fun and adventure with you guys to last a lifetime in the last two months. And if in a year, or two years, or whenever, you come back…I’ll probably have moved on. And you!” I laughed. “You will have definitely moved on.”

   He mumbled something which I didn’t catch, but he didn’t repeat it when I asked him.

   “I suppose its good, just saying good bye like this,” he said, “It’s a lot…smoother than expected.”

   “Expecting I’ll be screaming at you guys, throwing stuff, crying and just being a massive pain to be around, eh?” I suggested, sticking my tongue and nudging him in the side.

   “Well,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “You never know what to expect from you, Bec Lowthorne. But, I just wanted to talk to you about…well, last night.” I swallowed and tried to remain calm. Just the thought of last night was full with complications. That I admitedly enjoyed far too much for it just to be rebound sex.

   “Last night,” I said slowly, “I…don’t really know what to make of it.”

   “Me neither,” he said, “So let’s just treat it like we would have treated it under any other circumstances. Minus the fact that I’m who I am. And where we were. And him.” Yes, forget about him just for a moment and put everything in perspective. He was staring at me, as if compelling me to understand.

   “OK,” I said softly.

   “You’ll allow it?”

   I nodded, and reached up and kissed him. Our lips were still tender, and so was the kiss. As I drew away, I smiled at him foolishly.

   “There,” I said, satisfied, “That’s everything in perspective for you, Haz.”

   “Well, if that’s perspective then I like it,” he said, grinning, “Bec, I just want to know, what are we? This? What we have? Just before I leave.” I shrugged, because thinking about it would make me confused. I hated being confused. I had been confused for the last sixteen years of my life, and clear thinking, straightforward answers were all I could process at the moment.

   “We’re the best of friends,” I replied, squeezing his hand, “And we had fun. Sure, we had sex, and personally I thought it was great. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I like you Haz, and I wish you the best with your life.”

   “No,” he groaned, his curls bouncing as he moved his head, “Urgh, you’re pep talking me Bec, like we’re about to never meet again. It’s a small world, who knows?”

   “I know,” I said softly, “We’ve gotta accept that.” He bit his lip.

   “Give me your number,” he said, scrambling for a scrap of paper and a pen, “Here, what is it? At least we can keep in touch.” I recited my digits, until I reached the last two. I knew the numbers. 8-0. But somehow they fell differently on my tongue, and I didn’t know why, but they changed in my mouth.

   “5-2,” I finished. He probably wouldn’t try call me until they were in the plane, or back home. By then, we’d be long far gone. I never wanted to forget the times I had with Haz, because they were full of happiness and laughter. But there was part of me that knew the seed of that was my betrayal; the only thing I never wanted to remember in my life ever again. As he got to his feet, I stood up and wrapped him into a hug. He was warm and tight.

   “Bye Haz,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. Just as I looked into his eyes, he leaned down and kissed me. Gentler than normal. A goodbye kiss.

   “Bye, Bec,” he said sadly, holding my hand, “You know…maybe if all this hadn’t happened…we might-”

   “HARRY!” Louis called from outside. We might have what- who knows, but the next thing I vaguely remember was somehow managing to find myself sitting in the house; my actual house, lying on my bed, staring out the window, fiddling with the fluffy ball I had won from Luna Park. It was dark outside, the night breeze rushing past my closed window. I reached over and flicked the lights off, throwing me into a sea of pitch black. I don’t remember a lot more; my mind just not really being there, instead being with the boys thousands of miles above the sea, finally going home.

 

 


	12. Stole My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! sorry about the gap between this chapter posting  
> my work was spread over four documents- what a mess!  
> now ive got most of it organised i can get back to writing again :)
> 
> LONDON present day, it's getting ever closer to cabo now!  
> the storm has passed; or has it?
> 
> enjoy xx

 

_Present Day  
December, 2012_

 

 

   “One, two, three, hut!” we yelled, throwing our hands in the air.  “Let’s do this guys!” I grinned at my team mates, as we jogged out on to the oval. It was a bright, sunny day and I was so thankful for it. I missed how it was, just like this. Blue sky, a light breeze, being outside and just running around. I adjusted my bright yellow bib as we strolled out onto the field, fluro orange frisbee in hand.

   It was just a fun game of recreational ultimate frisbee, which I knew I was completely hopeless in, so I mostly just flung it everywhere and let other people chase after it.  

   After a while, our team scored the first goal leaving us ecstatic, even though we were down about 5-1.

   It had been about a week since we had returned from filming the music video for _The Great Escape_. As far as we had heard, it was still undergoing editing, even after the boys had recorded their studio version. It would be out soon, and I knew immediately how massive the song was going to be. Just like everything else.

   We stayed at Haz’s country cabin for two more days after we arrived, but on the third day at about 5:30 in the morning, Louis had shaken me awake, declaring that the weather was starting to let up so we should leave while we could. Liam finally got reception on the way back to London, and called up Danielle and Eleanor who had been calling for last three days, Turns out parts of the city were practically flooded and there were warnings sent out, so they didn’t leave.

   The effects of the storm on the city were evident.

   There was debris all over the streets, washed up from rubbish ways, dumps and gutter, along with driftwood and litter washed upshore from the Thames. Some old buildings even collapsed, and several electricity lines were at the mercy of the lightning strikes, leaving up to 10 blocks of buildings with power for as long as a few weeks in prospect.

   Me, on the other hand? I was doing great. The storm for me had almost been…a new beginning, a clean slate that was brushed off by the incessant raining. I was starting over. The burdens I had found heavy on my shoulders before suddenly felt not so indecent anymore. And the weather was terrific, by London standards at least.

   Just as we were being called off the oval, I noticed Harry leaning over the fence watching. I could recognise him from what- twenty metres away? His unusual blazer-donned wear and curly hair, I couldn’t miss the sight of him if I wanted to. I sighed, shook my head with a small smile and strolled over.

   “You should wear yellow more often,” he said with a grin and I reached the fence and leant against it, slightly out of breath. “It suits you.”

   “You’re real funny, Styles,” I muttered, jumping up and sitting on the fence. He wrapped his arms around my waist and propped his chin up on my shoulder. “Urgh…off!”

   “What?”

   “I smell,” I snivelled, but he squeezed me tighter to him.

   “It’s OK,” he said in a muffled voice into the back of my shirt, “I like your smell.” I laughed, and held his arms against me.

   “Charming as that is,” I said with a sigh, “I’ve got class now.” I jumped off the fence and he regarded me with a surprised look.

   “Class? After that?”

   “Yes class, after that,” I said, rolling my eyes, pulling off the yellow bib, “Some of us have to seek tertiary education to try make a living here, Stylie. Not all of us can rely on the devoted love of millions of teenage girls to set us up for our whole lives.”

   “Yes, yes,” he replied sarcastically, “Something something something girls. Seriously Bec, ditch class, come hang out with me, I’ve got absolutely nothing to do.”

   “Take a joyride in that new Audi you bought,” I suggested jokingly. He had bought another brand new car, gorgeous red colour. That was my dream car, driving right around London, so typically I wouldn’t have turned down the ride for anything else. “I’ve got to go to class, they’re handing out semester exam notices today, I can’t miss it.”

   “Not for a ride in the new Audi?” he simpered. I shook my head firmly and let out a noise of surprise as he jumped over the fence, grabbed my canvas bag from me and start marching away, back across the oval.

   “HEY!”

   “What?” he demanded teasingly over his shoulder as I hurried after him, “I could be a student at London University for all anyone could know.”

   “Sure,” I scoffed, trying to snatch my bag off him. He held it out of my reach. “No. You wish. Give it here, Haz!”

   “I think I’ll come to class with you,” he teased jauntily, I had rarely seen him this bright or energetic. “I’ve got nothing to do, so I might as well crash _your_ afternoon instead.”

   “Huh,” I said, grabbing the bag from him quickly when his guard was off, “Mr. Yager will love that. Really, Haz, don’t you have some…music to be writing, or video to be filming, or…or, some girl to be seeing?”

   “Oh that I do,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist as we waltzed towards the English Studies Department. I looked at him expectantly. “Don’t you see, Bec? It’s you.”

   I laughed and slapped his arm.

   “I don’t even understand _why_ people think you’re a good flirt,” I scoffed, “You’re blatant, Hazza.”

   “Blantantly charming,” he shot back, snuggling closer to me. Now that I had stopped running around, it was starting to feel very cold. “Why do you want to be a lawyer, Bec?” I looked at him in surprise, partly because he had never shown interest in my career choice before, but also because I  hadn’t considered it much either.

   “I dunno,” I replied, “I guess…it seemed like a good idea at the time.” I grinned as we kept walking. This silence between us didn’t feel awkward, but more relaxed and just right. There was no way to awkward around Haz, he was too easy to talk to.

   I wondered what he’d be doing if he wasn’t in One Direction.

   For sure, we wouldn’t have met at all. He’d be stuck working in that little bakery, or maybe he would have made it to college. Sitting an office all day, singing to himself, married at 30, kids at 35, got divorced, lived a crabby old man until he died forever alone. On the upside, I knew that this entire boy band phase of his life meant that that plan would be delayed by at least five to ten years, and he had me to stop him from turning out so bad, so why worry?

   “Oh by the way,” he added, as an afterthought, “You doing anything tonight? The boys and I were gonna go catch a film, you wanna come along? I heard there’s a good horror one.”

   Typical Harry, to try appeal to my addictive love of horror films. He knew I was scared shitless when I watched them, but I couldn’t resist them.

   “Actually,” I sighed as we arrived as the Literature Studies building, “I’ve got plans tonight. Sorry, Haz.”

   “Blowing me off?” he huffed, apparently seeing right through my bluff, “Well fine, then. I’ll just go pick up some other girl on the sidewalk and bring _her_ along as my plus one.”

   “Just make sure she’s a clean one,” I shot back, “Can’t have you catching any diseases, can we, pretty?”

   “No we can’t,” he said with a smug grin, as I made a beeline for the door. I stared. “What?”

   “You’re not actually coming in with me,” I said, disentangling myself from his arm. “Are you?”

   “What are you on about?” he demanded, “I’m an undergraduate in law here.”

   “Haz, this is Advanced Lit,” I laughed, nudging him away, “Go on.”

   “I can embarrass you by just waiting out here,” he pointed out, not budging but simply staring at me intensely, which he knew fully well unhinged me.

   “Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like more,” I sniped, pushing him away with a laugh, “Go! I swear to god Haz, I’ll chop your-”

   “Rebecca? Is that you?” I spun around and saw a familiar face, Mr. Yager, walking towards us, holding his folder and several thick textbooks. I quickly blushed and nodded.

   “Just Bec, sir,” I told him again. This was just how I responded to his greetings nowadays. “Hello.”

   “Who’s this?” he asked, peering at Harry through the top of his glasses. Huh. Only Mr. Yager could not know who this was.

   “Harry Edward Styles,” replied Haz in an almost sensible voice, contrary to the fact that he never said his full name, and it made me almost burst into a fit of laughter. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m a friend of Rebecca’s.” I shot him a dirty look.

   “Ah, well pleased to meet you,” replied Mr. Yager with a brief nod, “Are you in this course?”

   “Ah, I’m actually in a b-”

   “No, he’s not,” I interrupted, glaring at him while willing him to stop talking, “He’s not in this course, at all.” Mr. Yager raised his eyebrows, before muttering,

   “Alright then. OK, well…” He hurried back into the building hunched over, and as soon as he was out of earshot, Harry burst out laughing and I shoved him on his shoulder out of the way.

   “Get out of here!” I yelped. He grinned at me sheepishly, tucking his hands into his pockets and smiling at me over his shoulder as I hurried into the building after Mr. Yager and he walked off campus.

   I smiled to myself as I sat down in the my place. A message popped up on my phone and I checked it discretely.

 

hazinyourpants says: u see, ur teachy likes me.

       learn to appreciate me more. respect!

 

***

 

   Truthfully, I had no plans whatsoever, but it had been a pretty long week, and I just felt like being alone. You know, that feeling when you just want to sit by yourself, and think? A bit like that. I was sitting out on my balcony, on a wooden bench. It was possibly the most decorative piece of furniture in our block. The university student housing was pretty dodgy, and the buildings were a little too concrete and grimy, but the view from our balcony was quite spectacular, especially after a day like this.

   The rare clear sky was now streaked with thin clouds which were lit up by the dying of rays running in streams of paint from the sinking sun at the barely visible horizon. The city itself seemed as though it were just ready to spring to life at night, but now all was quiet and complacent. From here, it seemed like that, at least.

   It was starting to get chilly, but I didn’t mind. I was wearing a large, thick hoodie, with frayed shorts, a can of insect repellent at the ready, and my small diary clutched in my lap. I held my legs to my chest, placing my chin on my knees. A puff of air escaped my lips and turned to soft vapour swimming in my eyes. I loved watching the sunset, it was always so clearing for me. Mentally, emotionally.

   I could hear Jemima and Tian hustling about inside, getting ready to go out clubbing. The weekend was finally here, so they were going to go out and enjoy themselves. When I first got to London, I had followed them around to their ridiculous amount of partying, clubbing and pubbing, mostly because I had nothing better to do. It got tedious after a while, and my marks were struck pretty hard, so I gave it up. I hardly missed it at all.

   I picked up my pen, letting my legs slip and move forward slightly so I could look down at my diary. I poised the tip of the blue biro in the top right corner of the page.

 

   _December 3 rd, 2012. _

   “Hey, Bec?” I looked up, my legs snapping back up consciously. It was Jemima, peering out from inside, onto the balcony. One hand was gripping a hair straightener, the other holding the door open.

   “Hey, what’s up?” I asked, getting up, and closing my diary quickly, putting it down discreetly as possible.

   “Nothing, it’s all good,” she assured, “Someone’s here to see you.” That ‘someone’ stepped out behind her onto the blacony, wearing a varsity jacket and jeans walking towards me. Ah. Well, hello James Logan.

   “Hi,” he said, sounding uncertain. His hands were tucked into my jeans pocket, and he looked awkward.

   “Hey,” I said, sitting back down onto the bench slowly. Jemima closed the door behind her and went back inside. Unlike silence between Haz and I, there was so much awkwardness in this situation, I thought I might die.

   “I…” he started, standing their uncomfortably, his arms by his side as if he didn’t know what to do with that. I had a distinct feeling that he didn’t do this much. “I get it if you don’t want to talk to me, after that other night in the Taverna. I just came here…to, to apologise about how I acted. I was being a really big dick.”

   “It’s OK,” I said graciously, patting the bench next to me, “It was my fault partially too. Underage drinking was a dumb idea. Come, sit down.”

   “I dunno,” he said uncertainly, “I’m going to a gig a little later on.” But, I insisted. He sat down beside me, looking out at the sunset. He was beginning to relax, just slightly, as if cautious to let his guard down around me. I wondered if Louis had really managed to lay a punch on him. I also wondered if Tian was seething inside, knowing that she liked him and I was talking to him out here.

   There was no point, James Logan wasn’t my type.

   “I would have visited sooner,” he said, staring out at the sky, “But you went off with your…boy…band friends the day after the Taverna, and I’ve hardly had time to catch up with you since you got back, especially after the big storm.”

   “Ah, it’s alright,” I replied, “I’m pretty busy nowadays too.”

   “Listen, you’re not going to…to report me, you know? Are you?” he asked nervously, glancing at me. It was obvious it had been weighing down on him for a while.

   “No,” I said after a pause, shaking my head, “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He let out a deep sigh and covered his eyes with his hands, in apparent relief. I laughed.

   “Thank god,” he sighed, “I was really freaked out. I mean, you were pretty angry that night, and so was your friend.”

   “Ha! Lou,” I muttered, “Is it true he punched you?”

   “It was more like a jab,” James replied defensively and I scoffed.

   “I can’t believe it! You’ve got an entire head and about fifty pounds on him, Logan,” I snickered, “Bet you didn’t go for the face did you? That’s number one retail part of his body.”

   “I would have rolled him into a ball and threw him out the window if I had the chance,” he shot back reflexively, “But the manager-”

   “Kicked him out, yes,” I said, leaning back, folding my legs and rolling my eyes, “But don’t blame yourself, I think I’m on my way onto being an alcoholic.”

   “Oh is that so?”

   “Yeah, I got drunk again when I was with the boys,” I said, my mouth curling upwards, recalling the terrible hangover I had gotten after that late night game of taking shots. “Good times.”

   “Where did you even go?” he asked, “You just disappeared for two weeks and no one had any idea where you went.”

   “Oh I just accompanied them on a country drive,” I said harmlessly, “They were filming their new music video.”

   “Oh,” he said thoughtfully, “You in it?” I shook my head at the idea.

   “Why would I be in their music video?” I asked. That’s when I remembered. My breath almost caught in my throat, but I forced myself to swallow the bile gathering in throat, and coughing feebly a few times. I forced myself to forget the flicker of a memory that threatened to unhinge me slightly. I hated this.

   “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, sliding down on the bench, so his jacket hunched up around his shoulders, “You’re so close to them. Aren’t you dating one of them?”

   “No,” I said so quickly, I even surprised myself. He just looked at me in disbelief with a raised eyebrow.

  “But how did you meet them?”

   “Back in Australia, when they were touring earlier in the year,” I said, dodging the massive hurdle that had originally linked me to the biggest boyband in the world. “I met them and I just stayed in touch.”

   Well apparently James Logan didn’t read the papers, because then he would have seen about seven months earlier, pictures of Niall and I all over the media. And currently, rumours linking me to Harry. No wonder the Directioners despised me, setting up hate pages. I was just a common whoring groupie to them.

   “But I’ve seen pictures with you hanging out loads with one of them. What was his name…that Harry guy?”

   “He’s just a friend.” The look on James’ face made it very clear he didn’t believe me the slightest. “It’s _true!_ ”

   “Listen to you, you sound like a defensive teenager,” he joked, “Oh wait, you are!”

   “You prick,” I replied, playfully shoving him, just as the door to the balcony opened again. We glanced over our shoulders to see Tian standing there, obviously aiming to make an impression in a tight purple sequined dress and black pumps.

   “Hey Bec,” she said in a sugarcoated voice, flipping her hair excessively and smiling. “Hi James. Bec, we’re just leaving now, OK? We’ll be back later.”

   “That’s alright,” I said, with a grim smile. I was glancing between Tian and James, a wicked grin beginning to spread on my face.

   “Where you going?” asked James, with a ‘sup’ nod. Urgh. How could she like him like that? He was such a tool.

   “Clubbing,” she replied with a pageant-worthy smile, “Whatever catchs our eye, you know. Friday night!” She giggled. Oh my god, this was almost unbearable. Tian most definitely not a giggler. And then James giggled. I actually wanted to smack their heads together and get out of here. They were so unbelievable. “So James, what are you doing later on?”

   “Actually,” he said, getting up and checking his watch, “I’m going to a gig pretty soon, so I better get a move on.”

   “A gig?” repeated Tian, wide eyes and very interested, “Anyone I’d know?”

   “He’s an Aussie, so there’s more chance of Bec knowing, eh?” he said, grinning down at me. I made a face at him. “He’s just a friend.”

   “Who’s the defensive teenager know?” I demanded and he chortled as I got up too, picking up my diary and insect repellent. “I’m going to my room to watch movies and eat everything in the pantry.”

   “Aren’t you going out?” asked James, looking confused.

   “Oh, no,” laughed Tian as if that was the silliest suggestion in the world, “She’s not a clubber.”

   “I’m not a _people_ person,” I corrected, “I’m antisocial, and enjoy spending Friday nights by myself, in my room, wallowing in self pity.”

   “When was the last time you went out?” James asked. Well, this was getting a bit personal.

   “It’s been a while,” I admitted defensively and Tian snorted derisively. I shot her a look, wanting to warn her not to go to overboard with this. Sure James Logan needed all the help he could get being able to recognise signals, but this was just getting out of hand.

   “She hasn’t gone out in _weeks_ ,” she gushed, “She used to coming clubbing out with Jem and I at first, but she got lazy. Walk in to her room in the morning, the place is like swimming in food wrappers.”

   “Um, hello? I’m right here?”

   “Bec, you should come along with me to my boy’s gig,” suggested James, jumping at the idea, “It’s not clubbing or anything big. Just a nice time at a little inner city bar.”

   “Oh you,” I said, rolling my eyes, “I won’t go out to a gig with a guy who calls his friends ‘ma boys’.” I put air bunnies around the last two words as I waltzed around the bench. “And a bar’s not the greatest place for me to go.”

   “I won’t let you drink a sip,” he assured quickly, “I promise. Colas all night!”

   Colas on the house, apparently.

   “You should go along, Bec,” said Tian encouragingly, giving me a slight look as if telling me to go along with her. “Sounds like fun. I’d go if I weren’t meeting some people.” I eyed her and slowly turned to James.

   “Why not?” I replied with a shrug, “It’s just a small gig, right?”

   “Yeah,” he said with a grin, “Great! Meet me downstairs in what, ten minutes? That’s all girls need to get ready, right?”

   “No, no,” said Tian, teetering dangerously on her heels, “That’s how long _Bec_ takes to get ready. She’ll be right down, you guys have fun at that gig! See you later, James.” She gave him one last flirty grin over her shoulder and stepped back inside.

   I dug him in the ribs, or because he was so tall, his hip, with my elbow.

   “Ow!” he yelped, “What?”

   “Um, hello?” I scoffed, affronted, “Don’t ‘what’ me! You were checking the shit out of her, and your eyes were practically tearing themselves from their sockets.”

   “They were not,” he said.

   “She likes you,” I said in a sweet voice, looking up at him with a cheeky grin, “Go on!” He looked down at me, biting his lip, then hurried inside, calling after Tian,

   “Hey, wait up! I’ll walk you down!”

   I grinned to myself, and turned back to the sunset, just taking it in one last time. Just a night relaxing night at a gig with James Logan. A new leaf for me, at least.

 

***

 

   “He gave me a set of very explicit instructions,” said James in a shady voice, as though he were telling me about some sneaky deal he had made the Devil. We were walking down Oxford Avenue, in the cold night, having no idea where we were even going. Part of me couldn’t believe I opted for this over Friday night forever alone time. “Down an alley, second door on the left.”

   “Oh, explicit alright,” I said sarcastically rolling my eyes, “There’s just one problem. There are about a million alleys in inner city London, and there is not one of them I am prepared to walk down with you.”

   “Oh there’s no problem,” he said, at ease, “You just find some person who looks like they found their clothes in a rubbish dump from the 18th century and follow them.”

   “Oh, so this friend of yours?” I said in a surprised and mildly impressed tone, “He’s a…hipster, aye?”

   “Why?” he asked suspiciously, shooting me a look, “You got something against hipsters?”

   “No,” I said breezily, “But I know one when I see one.”

   “No, he’s not a hipster,” sighed James Logan, but added eventually, “OK, he is. A tiny bit. Not that much, at all. I mean compared to others, he’s practically full mainstream. He’s more indie.”

   “You do realise their the same thing?” I asked, and he ignored me. His eyes scanned the street until they landed on his next target.

   “Aha! Found one!” he announced, pointing him out. I slapped his hand down and squinted across the street.

   “Beginner’s mistake,” I empthasised, “He’s not a hipster.”

   “What?” he demanded, “Why not? He dresses like one.”

   “Nuh-uh,” I replied, shaking my head, and looking around, “He dresses like a middle aged man who lives at home with his mother. Now… _that_ is a hipster.” I nodded towards a guy with a pair of mustard overalls and shoes without socks. Only Louis could be mainstream and pull off shoes without socks.

   “My, my,” tutted James Logan as we hurried after the guy, “Am I sensing you used to be a hipster yourself, Lowthorne?” I laughed it off, but didn’t reply. I had been a hipster only what- three, four months ago? No one knew, of course. He was smirking his face off.

   Eventually we followed the guy towards a dodgy looking alleyway. I looked around anxiously.

   “Are you sure we should follow him?” I whispered to James, who looked a little uncertain himself, “It’s not exactly safe. What if he knows we’ve been following him all this time, and he’s leading us into a factory where they sell our organs on the black market?”

   James let out a pathetic whimper, and his hand instantly went to his mouth. What a pussy. He shook his head.

   “Don’t try pysche me out,” he shot back and marched down the alley, though still with an edge of hesitation, because I could tell he was considering the black market theory. Deciding I couldn’t stand at the beginning of an alley all by myself, I hurried after him. “Oh look, there are lights!”

   To my surprise, there was actually a small door, two down on the left, with bright lights and indie music pumping from inside. What do you know? Dodgy mustard led us right here after all.

   “This is it,” I heard James sigh as he pulled me inside by my hand. He was obviously relieved. Inside, I realised it couldn’t be a factory for organs. There were too many people looking surly, and wearing strange clothes, and the lights were too honey and it was too stuffy. All the body parts would go bad in this condition.

   It looked just like a small cosy pub, with a bar, a small stage and a few tables scattered around the floor. We sat down uneasily, I could feel everyone staring at us. I blamed it on his jacket.

   “So, how do you know this guy?” I asked, taking off my cardigan and hanging it off my chair. Just wearing a white lace dress with tights and maroon boots, I still felt warm in here. What were they doing, cooking us?

   “He was performing at some bar I was at, so we talked,” he replied, crossing his legs over each other, like he was a lady. “Now we’re mates. That’s the story, right there.”

   “Well done,” I said sarcastically, “So he’s an Aussie, hmm?”

   “Yeah, he’s been her for about a year or so now,” he said, getting up, “I’m gonna get some drinks.” I glared at him. “…I _mean_ a drink for _me_. And for you, you can have a cola.”

   “Yay!” I teased. Urgh. Cola, again. I sat by myself, not looking at anyone else. All strange, self-concerned hipsters, and indie music lovers. Don’t get me wrong, I like indie music. But some people can really freak me out.

   “Everyone’s staring,” James whispered in my ear, causing me to jump slightly. He sat back down with a mischievous grin, leaning across the table as the normal hum of bored conversation ensued around us. “We should have raided your hipster closet before we got here. My bad.” I punched his arm just as a voice came over the P.A. system- what were we, still in school?- announcing the upcoming performer in just five minutes.

   “Is that your mate?” I asked, relaxing into my chair.

   This wasn’t so bad. Just hanging out, no pressure, a couple of drinks and laughs. Why didn’t I do normal things like this with my ‘friends’? That’s right, because I really didn’t have any actual friends, not even my roommates. All I had was James Logan, and One Direction.

   Living the dream here, eh?

   I popped my cola open and gulped it down thankfully. Why was this not whiskey or a Black Delilah?

   It wasn’t even a date. Or was it? Oh god, what if he thought this was a date? I felt my fingers cling to the chair underneath me, and I could almost imagine them whitening. Don’t overthink this Bec, don’t over-

   “I don’t know,” He replied with a shrug, “It might be. I’ll introduce you after he performs. Listen, do you have Tian’s number?”

   I instantly relaxed and almost burst out laughing. I pulled out my phone thankfully, and flipped through my contacts.

   “Here,” I said, giving it to him, and effectively reading between the lines, “She likes rom-coms, stay clear of crunchy things, and don’t buy her anything fuschia.”

   “What are you on about?” He laughed, pulling at the collar of his jacket. I rolled my eyes.

   “And don’t do any of those freaky nervous ticks you have,” I added, “It’ll piss her off. I can tell you like her, Logan. Just don’t hurt her, or I’ll have to hurt you too.”

    “Oh, you girls,” he sighed, with a grin, tucking his phone away, just as the P.A. went off again, “Always defending each other so well. Like you’re all in a massive feministic sisterhood. It’s almost like you go looking for fights.”

   “I’d take you on any time,” I shot back tersely. “And well done, for using three big words in one sentence.” He smirked at me, as the P.A. announced the performer,

   “Lakyn Heperi!”

   “Aha,” said James, sitting up in his seat and pulling at his collar again, “This is him.” I leaned forward in my chair, just as a guy walked onto the stage.

   I was so used to being in university with ugly guys, guys with funny hair, guys who had absolutely no idea what they were doing. _This_ guy! He was the picture definition of attractive. There was something about the way he looked around with those eyes, almost like a permanent smoulder, the mussed up hair, the slight 5 o’clock shadow of late nights on his face.

   I didn’t want to gasp like a stupid fangirl, but I inhaled a small sharp breath, as I stared at him. Wow. There weren’t really any words to describe him.

   Scattered applause filled the small space, as he sat down on the lone stool in the middle of the stage with his guitar in hand. As he adjusted it on his lap, I realised with a jolt, that he was playing a left handed guitar. He was left-handed too. Seriously, what trouble could I get myself into with this guy? He fiddled with the microphone, before his eyes searching the crowd, and landing for a split second, on mine.

   Then his began to play.

   Then sing.

   If I could only do him justice by describing how amazingly indescribable his voice was. It had a husky tone to it, but it was soft at times, and raw at others. I could listen to him forever.

   That is, forgetting I knew the five most amazing guys on the planet.

   As soon as his song finished, I wanted to stand up and applaud crazily, but the small audience seemed a little surprised at how good he was. James, on the other hand, had no shame, and started smashing his hands together and yelling appreciation.

   “Nice job, man!” he said, getting to his feet as his mate hopped off stage and walked over, with a smile on his face. It was a heartstopping smile, it was. The two embraced briefly, patting each other on the back, before leaning back. “That was terrific! Nothing like that…One Direction.”

   He grinned at me sweetly and I wanted to kill him. What a little cock.

   “Thanks,” replied his friend, looking a little confused, which if possible, made his eyes look even cooler as they flitted to me.

   “Lakyn bro, this is my friend, Bec,” said James, “Bec, this is Lakyn.”

   “Hi,” I said, moving my hand to hold it out, but to my surprise, he leant over and pecked me on the cheek. Urgh. Soft lips.

   “Nice to meet you,” he said, leaning back with a crooked grin. Oh it was priceless, the look on James Logan’s face! But all I think of was how good-looking Lakyn was, and how he was just looking at me, his mouth shifting slightly as though not knowing whether to smile or to look straight.

   “You too,” I said, “Your song…you were really great.” Excuse me? He was amazing!

   “Thanks,” he said, giving a small nod, not removing his eyes from me. Hazel eyes. Unlike Harry’s stare which I found sometimes intimidating and obtrusive, his was actually quite flattering, “You’re from Australia.”

   “Yes I am,” I replied with a smile.

   “Oh, and you have nice teeth too,” he joked, moving his guitar to the side slightly. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?”

   I opened my mouth to reply, when James interrupted, apparently slightly pertubed and starting to have misgivings about bringing me along.

   “Sit down,” he urged, pulling a seat over, “Here.” Lakyn sat down with a deep sigh, pulling his guitar off and setting it down beside him. It was all I could do not to just stare at him all that time.

   “I’m at London U with L- James, here,” I explained, shifting slightly and moving the cola from vision. “We’re both doing law.”

   “No, no,” corrected Logan quickly, “ _She’s_ doing law, and _I’m_ going to be a football star.”

   “Soccer,” said Lakyn and I in unison, before laughing lightly.

   “Yes, whatever,” grumbled James, a little disgruntled, “Now you’re in Englishman’s land, it’s called football.”

   “So what are you doing here?” I asked Lakyn, as he ordered a lager.

   “Trying to jumpstart my music career,” he said with a sigh, before admitting, “It’s been a year, I haven’t had much luck.”

   “You’re into indie music, eh?” James said, shooting me a look not to comment or bring up anything to do with hipsters. “You’ll get your big break soon, don’t worry.”

   “Yeah, with a voice like that,” I added, before I bit my lip. It hadn’t quite occurred to me how I could help him. “Actually, I know a few people in the music business.”

   “Oh god, please Bec,” groaned James, looking embarrassed on my behalf. Lakyn popped open his lager and took a sip while looking interested, nonetheless.

   “What? I’m interested.”

   “Don’t be,” he replied, “She knows One Direction.” Lakyn’s eyes almost popped out his pretty skull, laughter dancing along his face.

   “One Direction? As in _the_ One Direction?” he repeated, nearly choking on his lager. “The biggest boy band in the world?”

   “Pretty well informed for a hipster,” I mumbled and James nudged me, but Lakyn laughed it off.

   “I try,” he answered, “But that’s pretty impressive. How do you know them?”

   “Oh, they’re all just my friends,” I said, “I hang out with them loads, we’re really tight.”

   “As tight as your dress,” sniped back James and Lakyn thankfully ignored the comment and replied,

   “That’s cool.”

   “But you’re in a completely different type of music, so I don’t think it’ll be much help,” I said truthfully, but he shook his head.

   “No, that’s great actually!” he said, leaning back in his chair, and surveying me with a smouldering gaze. Breathe. “Reckon you could ask them about it? All I really need is a decent leg-up.”

   “Ah- yes,” I said quickly, followed by a smile, “Of course. I’ll get back to you, ‘kay?”

   “Sure,” he said, taking another sip of his lager, “Can I have your number, then?” Without even the slightest hesitation, I rattled off my digits, which he entered into his phone with a smile.

   “Bec?” asked James, shooting me a glance. “Can we-”

   “I’ll be right back,” said Lakyn, picking up his guitar, nodding briefly at me, before moving off. As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, James almost exploded at me.

   “ _What are you doing_?” he demanded, leaning across the table, “You can’t keep your hands off him!”

   “I didn’t even touch him!” I retorted shortly, “And why don’t you go off at him, hmm? He was the one who kissed me, and he wouldn’t be sending me all these signals if he didn’t like me back.”

   “What signals?” he said, bewildered, “Bec, _come on_ , he’s one of my mates. It’s weird.”

   “How is it different from me allowing you to hit on Tian?” I shot back, “Anyway, it’s not like we’re even going out. I just _met_ him for god’s sake. You’re just like an overprotective brother.”

   “But hey!” he hissed, grabbing my phone off me as I let out a noise of protest, “He’s got your digits now! Who says he won’t call you up to discuss his ‘music business’ and end up taking you out?”

   “It shouldn’t be a problem for you!” I hissed back, and he looked a little mad, with his crazy eyes. He tugged on the collar of his jacket again, and I slapped his hand irritably. “Don’t do that!”

   “Hey,” said Lakyn and we both jumped. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there. “What’s up?” He sat back down, looking calm and quite relaxed, so I assumed he hadn’t heard anything.

   “Nothing,” shot in James quickly, “Bec and I were just thinking, we might get going.” I wanted to say no, because I was having a nice time, but he grabbed my hand and nearly dragged me out the door.

   Lakyn, however, thankfully wouldn’t let me get out that easy.

   “Wait up!” he called, reminding me inexplicably of James doing the same thing to Tian. “I’ll walk with you.” We walked out into the dodgy alley, the cool air hit us like a gust. I shivered and adjusted my jacket around my shoulders. As we got back to Oxford Avenue, I noticed James was still holding my hand. I squirmed and he let go immediately.

   I could tell Lakyn was regarding the both of us with interest. Suddenly, James’ phone went off and he fished it out of his pocket. Over the rush of Friday night traffic, he walked off slightly, holding his phone tightly to his ear and shouting into it.

   “So,” said Lakyn, lightly, letting a puff of warm air escape his lips. He looked _really_ good in his coat. “Hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s going on between you and James, huh? You two seemed pretty tense.”

   “What?” I asked, caught off guard, “Me and…me and _James_? Nothing! No, really, we’re just friends.”

   “That right?” he said, but I could tell he was just humouring me.

   “Yes,” I said carefully, “He’s just very protective of me, but you know, not in that way. He’s got a thing for my roommate though.”

   “I think he likes you,” he teased, sticking his tongue out slightly, and ribbing me. It was playful, but I was crumbling inside. Why was I so weak?

   “Oh, no,” I laughed in a breathy voice, “Not at all. In fact, he’s pissed cos he knows I’ve got my eye on someone else.” His eyes widened, showing interest, as he stepped forward; closer to me. God, he was more perfect up close.

   “Someone else?” he repeated, “Sounds like someone’s jealous.” It took me half a moment to process his words, and another moment to find something worth to say. I shook my head slowly.

   “He’s not jealous,” I replied, gazing into eyes, “He’s just…protective, mainly because he knows this guy.” There was no denying that there was some sort of tension between us.

   “What does the guy think about it?”

   “I don’t think he knows.”

   “I think he does,” he said quietly, reaching forward and taking my face in his hand and pressing his lips against mine. A chaste kiss, but I could taste a hint of smoke and wood on him.

   How long had I known this guy?! What, ten, fifteen minutes?!

   Looking back, there wasn’t a single guy I had been with who I hadn’t kissed almost instantly. Except Haz. And I wasn’t even _with_ him.

   But I was too caught up in the feel of his coarse coat rubbing against my bare, goosebumped arms, his firm lips on mine, and his calloused hand on the back of my neck. Just as we broke out of the kiss, I laughed as I heard James turn and yell,

   “REALLY BEC, REALLY?”


	13. Gotta Be You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPY BIRTHDAY BEC! s2

_Present Day  
December, 2012_

 

  
  
   “SHE’S HERE!” roared Louis, throwing his arms unceremoniously around me.Blindfolded, he sounded a lot louder than normal and I winced slightly as he crushed me in a massive bear hug and I stumbled back unevenly. I could recognise that Doncaster accent anywhere.

   “Careful there, Lou!” Zayn’s clear voice rang out from behind me, “You’re damaging the goods!” I moved my head around, trying to orientate myself. It didn’t help.

   “Goods!” I scoffed. “Thanks, Zayn. Where are we?”

  “Home,” I heard Louis say, as he straightened up and adjusted my dress. He ran his hands over my chest and I yelped out in protest. “I’m just repairing the goods! Sorry. Happy birthday, beautiful.”

   “Hands off!” I shrieked.

   “Would you believe it!” Zayn continued as he nudged me forward and I took an uncertain step. “Seventeen, how fast she’s growing up.”

   “Where’s Liam, Niall and Haz?” I demanded, taking another shaky step forward. “Oh no. You’re not going to throw me in a slime box or something, are you? This is a limited edition dress.”

   “We’re saving that for your eighteenth, sweety,” Lou said, sounding further away than before. “Haz, you asshole, get out here.”

   “LIAM, NIALLER!” Zayn yelled right in my ear and I started violently.

   “Not in my ear!” I cried, just as Zayn tore off the blindfold. I stared around the room for a split second, before my eyes adjusted to the light and they all yelled,

   “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

   I laughed. It was spectacular, really, had they had done with the place. There was a banner with ‘HAPPY 5th BIRTHDAY!’ on it, hung low across the ceiling, there was a small pile of messily wrapped presents on the floor, streams and balloons crowding the small living room.

   Haz’s arms were the first to find me.

   As party poppers exploded around us, I clung onto him as he buried his head in the crook of my neck, his sequined party hat rubbing my face as I laughed. There was no need for words between us anymore.

   We broke out of the hug and I swarmed by the other four of them; Lou pulled a party hat over my head and shoved a party horn in my mouth, and I nearly choked on it. Liam gave me a massive paternal hug and patted my head affectionately, while Zayn threw an arm around my shoulders and placed a big wet kiss on my cheek. I giggled and brushed it off with the back of my hand.

   And Niall. I could see him, sifting through the others towards me. And when he wrapped me up in a hug, I didn’t squirm or protest or doing anything dumb, instead I hugged him back. His arms ached with the comfort they always provided for me, whether we were truly friends like we had agreed, or not. His lips grazed my cheek as he pulled away, blue eyes boring in to me, a smile on those pale lips.

   “Thank you so much guys,” I laughed, looking around and unable to contain the massive smile that stretched over my face, “This is amazing.”

   “It was Louis’ idea to make every sequined,” pointed out Zayn, “It’s very glamorous.” He flicked the pink streamers that were hanging out of his party hat over his shoulder.

   “Well, I think it’s fabulous,” I said, smiling at all of them, “This is so…oh my god, thank you. This is the best!” I laughed as Zayn squeezed me with his arm still resting around my shoulders.

   “I can’t believe you’re seventeen,” said Haz quietly, with an almost sober smile, “ _Seventeen_. I was seventeen once.”

   “You were seventeen a year ago,” I laughed.

   “You were sixteen not so long ago,” said Niall, his eyes sparkling with happiness, “How long have you known us for? A year? It feels like we’ve known you forever, Bec.”

   Well, I’ve known him forever. I’ll never stop knowing him, no matter what. Wait- was I still thinking about how long I’d _known_ him for?

   “Well we’ve got an action-packed day for you,” said Liam, “Then in the evening, we’re on the plane to Cabo!”

   “You got the tickets!”

   “Of course I did,” said Louis dismissively, “I’m brilliant. Now, put this on.” He tossed me a sequined cape.

   “Why?” I demanded suspiciously as Zayn helped me tie it on around my neck. “Where are we going?”

   “First, we’re going to take you to Somsert House Ice Rink,” said Louis proudly, “It’s pretty slick.”

   “Iceskating?” I panicked, “What- no, I’m too uncoordinated to iceskate!”

   “You’ll be fine,” assured Haz, taking my hand, “Let’s go, eh?”

   “What are we doing after that?”

   “Lunch at TriBeCa Arcade,” Niall said, “Then I think we’re going to…”

   “London Eye,” answered Liam faithfully to Louis’ plan copious amount of planning, “You haven’t been there, have you Bec?” I shook my head.

   “Our flight’s at 5:30,” said Louis, checking his phone, “So we should leave here at about three. We’ll get back at about 2, grab Bec’s stuff, have cake and then off to Cabo!”

   “We better get a move on then,” said Liam, bustling us out the door, nearly getting tangle in my cape, “Are you sure Bec should be wearing this as a safety precaution, Lou?”

   “It’s OK,” I replied, bundling the sequined cape up in my arms protectively, “I want to wear it.”

   “First stop!” announced Zayn, “Somerset House Ice Rink!”

   Mantle Apartments was still just as luxurious as always, but it seemed today, outside was the place to be. It was a little cloudy, but the sun occasionally poked its head out from behind the clouds. The air was fresh and bitey, and it was snowing lightly. We took the new working elevator down to the lobby, where Haz summoned the limo out front.

   By the time we had pushed our way out of the revolving door, we looked crazy, the boys with their sequined party hats, with me, some weird seventeen year old – ha! I could say I was seveteen now- shrieking and wearing a long pink cape. We jumped out onto the sidewalk, wailing, as people around us shot us concerned looks and crossed the street to avoid us.

   And for once, as we climbed into the pink limo awaiting our arrival then stuck our head out of the windows and the sunroof beating the hood of the car and hooting as we tore downtown, I didn’t even care.

 

***

 

   “Don’t let m- HARRY!”

   “It’s alright, calm down!” he laughed, as he drifted away from me on the ice rink. I gripped onto the side of the open-air rink desperately, not moving an inch. My knuckles were white.

   “Harry!” I squeaked again, “Come back! Help!” Liam zoomed past me, doing happy laps around the rink. I stayed motionless, convinced that if I moved, I would immediately fall over. Truly, Somesert House Ice Rink was gorgeous; with brights light which illuminated the open air-rink, the light snow was falling around us. That was one thing I wouldn’t miss about Australia. Stinking hot Decembers.

   “Hey, Bec,” said Niall, pulling on his iceskates and stepping on to the ice, and nearly falling over instantly. “Holy shit!” I burst out laughing, but stopped abruptly as he regained his balance and then glided off, with astonishing grace. Well, if _he_ can do it…

   “Come on Bex!” yelled Louis, gliding backwards, as if taunting me, “Let’s do this!”

   “No!” I yelled, “I can’t. The physics of iceskating isn’t right!” I nearly toppled over as Liam lapped swiftly past me again, without even touching me.

   “Forget physics!” yelled Louis.

   “HOW CAN I FORGET PHYSICS? IT’S TECHNICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO STAND ON A PAIR OF BLADES FOR ONLY SO LONG!” I shouted, as my skates started to move inexplicably forward. I clung onto the side of the rink and let out a desperate moan.

   “Here,” said Harry, popping out of nowhere, and grabbing one of my arms. I let out a shriek as my feet shuffled awkwardly on the ice, and I gripped the side of the rink with my remaining hand so tightly, I think the material would have crumbled under it. He laughed. “Just _breathe_ ,Bec. There’s not the slightest chance that any of us would let you fall.”

   He took my arm, looped it through his, and started to edge slightly away from the side of the rink. I clawed at it desperately, but soon, we had glided progressively outwards; too far now for me to resort back to clinging to the side of the rink. I grabbed his arm, tightly, as he skated slowly at first. My feet didn’t move, instead I let him drag me along. There was _no_ way I was going to at all.

   “We’re gonna have so much fun today,” he sighed, gliding along serenely as I clung to him for dear life. “And I know for sure you’ll love my present, it took a lot of hard work to think of and find.”

   “Oh, I’m sure it was,” I teased, with a smirk and a little bit of gusto; well as much as I could manage in my current state,“We’ll just see how good you reckon you are at giving presents later on. For now, I will remain blissfully unaware. Hints?”

   He pressed his lips together, a smirk on his face, as he shook his head; his prefectly styled curls bumping up and down against his forehead. He caught me staring at smirked some more. Urgh. After all this time, he was still insufferable as he had been from the very start.

   “We’ll see,” was all he said.

   “To be honest,” I said, looking down at my shaky feet which instantly started to quake even more, “I’m surprised I’m not dead yet.”

   “See?” he said softly, “It’s not that bad is it?” He smiled at me and reached over with his other not incapacitated arm, brushing snow from the loose bangs which fell from under my beanie.

   “Only because I’ve got you,” I replied in a breathy voice, creating tiny puffs of warm air, floating around our faces.

   His green eyes found mine for a moment, and I let myself lower my guard and be lost in the moment- until he unlatched himself off of me and skated away too quick for me to react. I was left by myself, stranded halfway in the rink, screaming my head off, stiff and frozen as the iceskates attached to my feet scraped across the wet ice.

   “HARRY STYLES, YOU DICK!” I yelled. Way to spoil a mood.

   Thank god Louis had booked this place out, we would have been kicked out by now if he hadn’t.

   I could hear them laughing, but I was terrified I’d fall over. After gliding for about a metre – an undeniably traumatising metre it was- I slowed to a stop, standing uncomfortably in the very middle of the ice rink. I saw Liam kick his heels in, spraying thin sheets of shaved ice as he halted in a very professional sort of way. He grinned at me, waving.

   “How are things, Bec?” he called, cupping his mouth with his gloved hands.

   “Pretty fantastic,” I called back, “Someone get me a knife, Harry Styles isn’t leaving this rink alive.”

   “Well, I reckon you’re doing pretty well for a first time skater,” commented Niall as he glided up behind me. Unlike Liam, who was freakishly skilled at it, Niall seemed to be more omfortable with it. Everyone did in fact, except for me. I grinded my teeth together.

   “Where’s Zayn?” I inquired.

   “Paul doesn’t want him to iceskate ‘cause he hurt his ankle,” he explained, making the mistake of lingering to close to me. I lunged with my arms; wrapping them around his waist and locking fingers to prevent him from escaping.

   “AHA! Got you,” I sniffed, “Now, take me to the exit.”

   “Oh Bec,” I heard him laugh, with that Irish accent. His arms looped around my neck, holding me against him. “I miss you.”

   “Miss me?” I repeated, looking up at him, “I haven’t left yet.” In the late morning fog, the snow and mist, his eyes were bright blue. I could fall in their depth.

   “I know.”

   “BEC!”

   “WHAT?” I snarled, standing up and Niall tried to shuffle off while I was distracted, but I grabbed him and dragged him back.

   “COME OVER HERE!” Harry yelled from the other side of the rink, waving his hand. I moaned and shook my head.

   “You ditched me!” I cried, “So sorry, no, I’m going to go and skate with Niall instead.”

   “Is that right?” Niall asked with teasingly surprised eyes, “Well if I fall, then you’re going down with me too, aren’t you?”

   “U-ah,” I said shortly, “You haven’t fallen over, have you?”

   “ _All_ the time,” he grinned wickedly, grasping my hand. Unlike Liam, he wasn’t wearing gloves. Both of our hands were freezing, but he didn’t seem to mind the feel of my icy skin against his. Our fingers locked between each other. It reminded me of how things used to be. Before- before…

   “You’re doing it!” he laughed in disbelief, looking down at my feet, which were actually moving. “You’re iceskating, Bec!” That was, until I realised I was skating, my legs froze up again and I stopped so abruptly that I was pulled forward by Niall and we both stumbled over each other, desperately trying to regain balance.

   We were both yelling and shouting, as we clung on to each other, but in the end, our combined uncoordination was too much and he slipped over, bringing me crashing down on top of him.

   The ice was cold and wet, just like I had expected, much not so harsh, and I didn’t care as much; I was too busy laughing.

   “G-I’m so sor…Bec, I’m-” he was stammering as he looked up at me, as I laid against his chest, using his cold fingers to try brush the ice and snow from my hair and clothes, and skimming my skin leaving trails of shivers, but I was laughing uncontrollably. Like I was lost in the rain again. It was _just_ like being lost in the rain; the mist, and snow settling around us, blurring my vision to nothing but those eyes, and that face.

   Here, everything was uncomplicated, his touch and the feel of him, even on the soaking ice.

   “It’s- it’s alright,” I panted, grinning my face off, “Oh god. Oh god.” We stared into each other eyes, and I wanted so badly to run my fingers through his soft hair. Then again, that would be a little weird.

   “Nialler! Bec!” I turned, torn quickly from the vague intimacy of the moment as Harry’s voice reached us across the rink. “You alright, there?”

   Liam skidded over skilfully, and offered me his hand. I climbed to my feet just as Haz collided into my back, nearly knocking me back over, instead I stumbled forward and fell into Niall, who had just gotten up again.

   “Well, this looks like fun,” Louis said, skating over as we all burst out laughing. “Zayn’s get a little jealous of how much fun we’re having.” I peered over his shoulder at Zayn who was perched on the bench, snuggling with a hot chocolate and looking a little lonely.

   “How long have we been here?” I asked.

   “An hour.”

   “An _hour_?” I repeated in disbelief as Haz wrapped his arms around my waist and held me against him. “Already?”

   “Well, half of it you spent moaning and saying you didn’t want to skate,” Harry replied, with a smirk. I slapped his leg irksomely.

   “Sorry, Bec,” Niall said, avoiding my eye, “I was joking, I didn’t really mean to make us-”

   “Don’t be! I would have fallen over anyway, but at least you were there to go down with me,” I smiled, as Harry started playing with my hair. “Stop!” I laughed, slapping his hand away, “What are you doing, picking for lice?”

   “No, I’m not doing anything!” he grinned, as Niall staggered unevenly to his feet and then took a few steps away from us. “So, what about lunch at the arcade?”

   “Seconded,” groaned Niall, trying to dry his damp patches of water on the knees of his jeans, “I’m starving. You guys ready to go? Bec?”

   “I’m fine,” I shrugged, “At least now I know I can’t trust any of you in an ice rink, and that I should avoid iceskating at all costs.”

   “Ah, but Bec!” said Louis, shoving Harry over and looping his arm in mine, “That’s the point, we’re taking you on an enlightening journey.” I laughed at Haz’s face as he nearly toppled over. Louis pulled me cautiously to the exit, and as soon as I stumbled off the rink, I was instantly thankful. 

   I plopped down on the bench next to Zayn and let out a sigh, unlatching my feet from being held prisoner by the iceskates.

   “Fun?” he inquired. I nodded with an irrepressible smile, flinging the skates out of the way.

   “Very. But a tiny bit traumatic,” I replied, “Don’t worry Z.”

   “What am I worrying about?” he laughed.

   “Nothing,” I said absent-mindedly, holding my hand out, “Sip?”

   “ _Anything_ for the birthday girl,” he simpered, with wide eyes, and handing over his cup happily. I took a sip, grateful as I felt the simmering sweet liquid warm my throat. “You’re lucky to have a friend like Louis. He organised all this, for you, you know? We’d be back home with Nando’s and a film if it weren’t for him.”

   “I wouldn’t mind that,” I admitted, “But this is amazing. I know I’m lucky to have him.” I smiled as Louis walked over and held out his hand.

   “Would you like me to escort you?” he asked in a fake posh voice, and Zayn smirked.

   “Why don’t you just sweep her off her feet and ride her off into the sunset, Lou?” he sniggered, as Harry walked behind Louis. “I mean, Lou’s practically tripping over himself to tend to your every need, Bec. He’s your knight in shining armour.”

   Louis turned a dull shade of red, and it didn’t help that I probably did too. Zayn guffawed heartily.

   “Oh you guys are just too easy to tease…”

   “Can we just go?” interrupted Harry abruptly with a frown, turning and walking away. Zayn got to his feet with raised eyebrows, muttering,

   “Touchy, touchy.”

   I just gazed up at Louis, who had his hands tucked into his pockets, refusing to meet my eye, just like Niall had. Was I that unapproachable anymore? But then again, this was very different from Niall. I reached over and took his hand in mine gently, willing him to understand without me clearly saying,

   “You obviously haven’t told your best friends that you’re gay yet.”

   I opened my mouth, to say something along those lines, but he sighed and stopped me.

   “Don’t bother Bec, it’s alright,” he said, with a nonchalant shrug, as if it didn’t matter, when it clearly did. “They wouldn’t understand, so why should I try?”

   “Lou-”

   “Let’s- let’s not go there, alright?” he said, laughing it off lightly, and heaving me to my feet, “It’s your seventeenth, and I’m not going to let it get away from you!”

 

***

 

   “You should have seen your _face!_ ” I screamed, pointing at Zayn, trying not to break down right there in the middle of upper-east London sidewalk, clinging on to a massive bag of cotton candy.

   “My face was _fine_!” retorted Zayn defensively, running a hand over his visage protectively, with a look of concern. “Louis was rocking the cart!”

   “I was not!”

   “Oh I’m so sorry, you were fucking jumping up and down, screaming ‘magnitude nine’!” Zayn snapped, looking peeved. “Fear of heights does not help, trust me!”

   “Oh Zayn,” I gasped for air, patting his shoulder sympathetically, “It’s- it’s ah…” I burst into laughter again, and Zayn pulled a grimace.

   “So assuring Bec,” he replied sarcastically, before leaning down and snatching a handful of cotton candy from me.

   “OI!”

   “That’s her birthday cotton candy I bought for her!” protested Liam indignantly, “Gosh, Z.”

   “I hope that’s not Bec’s birthday gift,” said Haz, punching Liam in the shoulder, “You got her something, ‘ight?”

   “W- of course,” scoffed Liam, “But the cotton candy is Bec’s, leave her alone.”

   “Whatever you say, dad,” replied Zayn with a raised eyebrow.

   “Two thirty!” announced Louis, hurrying us along, “Time to head home, grab Bec’s stuff, meet at Haz and I’s place for le cake!”

   “I’ll take her back to her place,” volunteered Haz immediately, grabbing me and dragging me away, waving a swift goodbye to the others. He hailed a taxi down quickly.

   “What’s with the rush?” I asked in a cheeky tone.

   “Oh nothing,” he said lightly, holding the door open for me chivalrously. “Don’t want to miss our flight, do we?”

   “Please Haz,” I huffed, as I slid inside and gave the driver the address, “We couldn’t miss that plane if we tried, we’ve got Lou on our backs.”

   “Eh,” he grunted, just as his phone started ringing, “Wait a sec.” He picked it up. “Hello?”

   I studied his face turn from expectant, to speechless, to very angry.

   “Yeah, yeah we know, but that’s not for… yeah, wait what- _no_ Paul, you can’t… I _know_ that, but it’s- you should, she’s everything!” He shot me a glance and I raised an eyebrow. “You’re fucking joking.”

   “Haz…?”

   “No, no fucking way, alright?” he snapped into the receiver, and hung up abruptly, staring out the window. He stayed silent, while I sat perched on my seat, waiting for the explanation to come.

   “Harry,” I said slowly, “What was that about?” He grumbled something inaudible, and I sighed, snuggling into him; taking his arm and placing it over my shoulders. It seemed to rest there so naturally.

   “We’ll talk about it later, alright Bec?” he said gently and I nodded slowly. We pulled up at campus and we hurried up to my apartment. It would have been embarrassing to see the low standard of housing I lived in under any other circumstances, but I realised Harry didn’t really care. He had snuck back onto campus before to visit me, and had escaped virtually undetected except by Mr. Yager, who really didn’t count.

   I fished my key out as he stood there, arms wrapped around, only to waltz in and pull up short; to find Tian and James snuggled up on the couch like they were besties. My jaw dropped, as quickly as Haz dropped his hands from me, and looked over my shoulder at them.

   ” _Ti_?” I said incredulously, glancing between them, “ _Logan_? What are you guys doing?”

   “Bec!” laughed Tian, jumping up, when it was obvious what they just been doing. “Hey! What you doing here, I thought you were out celebrating your birthday!”

   “I am,” I said in disdain, as James got to his feet, looking wary, “Hey you, _sit down_. You’re not going _anywhere_.”

   “Bec, calm down!” she said brightly, with a touch of over enthusiasm, “I’m just having James over to hang out for a while, since you’re not here and I’m a little lonely!”

   “Evidently. Where’s Jem?”

   “With Pete, of course! Really Bec, aren’t you going out to you know, celebrate for a bit longer? I’d hate to see you home on your seventeenth!” she trilled, eyes shining.

   “Yeah, Bec,” chipped in Logan, but I shot him a vicious look, “Could you, you know…?”

   “No, I don’t know,” I snapped, but Harry cut in with,

   “Hey mate, maybe you shouldn’t be telling her what to do.” Immediately, the atmosphere tensed.

   “Who’s this?” asked James, looking at Harry, “Oh no, I know this. Harry Styles, from that One D-erection band.”

   “And who’s this?” snapped Haz, instantly defensive, when Logan obviously had the pyshical upper hand again. “Bec, is this the guy Lou was talking about from the bar brawl?” I nearly scoffed. It was hardly a _brawl_.

   “I-no,” I said quickly, pushing him towards my room, “Can you grab my stuff? _Please_ , Haz?” Harry turned, glaring at James Logan over his shoulder as if plotting vendetta, before retreating to my bedroom to pack my stuff for me. I sighed and turned to Tian and James, who exchanged guilty looks like a couple of teenagers who had been caught out.

   “Bec, we really-”

   “Save it, Ti, I know how it is with you,” I said sharply, turning to James as I marched over, “But you! How dare you get pissed off at me for going after Lakyn, when I find you two weeks later, curled up in here with my friend! You bloody hypocrite!”

   “You were the first to go after him,” he replied wearily, “Even after I warned you not to!”

   “But, but this is different!” I hissed, “You’re saying you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t hooked up with Lakyn?”

   “No,” he said shortly, “But you ignored what I told you.” I gnashed my teeth together angrily.

   “I happen to like Lakyn,” I said in a low voice, “So please, I’m perfectly happy for you and Ti, but can you leave anyone else out your obvious dislike of us being together?”

   “Packed,” announced Harry, marching out of my room with a massive bag, which had clearly been packed by throwing everything lying on the ground inside of it. “ _Here_ we go, Bec. Anything else?”

   “Nope,” I said, shooting James a warning glance, “Nothing at all. We better get going, don’t want to be late.”

   “Ooh, where are you going?” asked Tian ardently. I wanted to say to Haz quickly, not to mention anything, but I knew I could always trust him.

   “Camping.” Tian’s face fell and I nearly laughed. Haz caught my eye, winked and nodded towards the door. “Should we go, then?”

   “Yeah, let’s go,” I said, as he slung my bag over his shoulder and we walked out.

   “What was that about?”

   “Nothing. I know a lot of jerks, let me tell you.”

   “And me?” he asked with a hopeful smile. I returned it without hesitation.

   “You’re somewhere amongst there, Styles.”

 

***

 

   When we landed in La Paz, it was 5:30 p.m. local time, a breezy early evening which coaxed out the bustling, pounding night life to ease. When we arrived at the airport, it was swamped with photographers who had some how found out between London and here, in seven hours, that One Direction were making a spontaneous trip to Cabo.

   In fact, we had just stepped off the plane, when we were swamped by people. My inability to cope with havoc, I did what I usually do; grope around for someone to cling onto. It happened to be Zayn. Security parted the crowd just enough for us to hurry through, only to met by flashing cameras pressed against the glass exits.

   I looked over at Haz, who grinned at me, then nodded his head toward the door in a similar way as he had earlier that day.

   “Bec? _BEC?_ ” Zayn was shouting in my ear. I jumped. I hadn’t heard him, like part of me had just slowly tuned out, and I become oblivious to the sound of his voice when in fact all I could hear was the continual scream of pyschotic fans. “Let’s go, you look like you might throw up.”

   “I’m not gonna throw up!” I protested, my grip on his arm tightening, “There are so many cameras. They’ll be a lot of pictures.”

   “Yes,” he said slowly, “That’s what cameras do. You’ll be great Bec, you look stunning for someone who just stepped off a seven hour flight.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “There. Perfect. Now, let’s go.”

   I was thankful I had him to hold on to as we burst outside and for the first time in a while, I realised the immense extent of the craze surrounding these five boys whose fame I so often took for granted and completely underestimated. The photographers were crying, yelling, pushing and acting like a bunch of overexcited fan girls. It was all I could do, not to freeze up and scream at all of them to just stop. The constant blinding flashes threw me off guard, and I had the continual sense of being disorientated.

   But somehow, _somehow_ Zayn managed to get me from the airport exits to the limo which was waiting for us patiently as the media swarmed in on it like a giant herd of Mexican bees.

   The drive from La Paz to Cabo took about an hour and a half. Louis fished out his schedule from his bag and showed it to me.

 

Departure

5:30 P.M. 15th Saturday evening, departure London Time.

10:30 A.M. 15th Saturday afternoon destination Local Time (cabo).

Arrival

12:30 A.M. 16th Sunday morning, London Time.

5:30 P.M. 15th Saturday evening, La Paz Local Time.

Drive

5:30 P.M. – 6:30/7:00 P.M.

 

It made little sense to me, but I was surprised by how much planning and effort he had taken for me.

   Haz’s arm thrown over Louis’ waist, Zayn’s head was resting on my shoulder- it was true what they said about his sleep patterns- and Niall and Liam were dozing adorably on each other. Louis was the only one awake enough to talk to me like a proper human being.

   “Guess what?” he asked quietly, as the others sat silently, either asleep or on their way to. “It’s still the 15th of December here, Bec.” My eyes widened in surprise.

   “What?”

   “Yep, it’s the 16th back home, but since we’re in Cabo, you get a double birthday!” he exclaimed, looking excited that I was finally realising how his intricae plan was coming together.

   “So, that means…?”

   “Two sunsets, babe.”

   “You’re amazing, Louis Tomlinson,” I mumbled, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug as he rubbed my back warmly. He was a friend I could never replace. “Love you.” His hold tightened.

   “Love you too, Bec,” he said quietly into my ear. The hotel was a fifteen minute drive from Cabo central, just down the highway. It was a luxurious piece of land, located right on the beautiful beach. It was scarily high class and expensive looking, but it emitted a relaxing, laid back luxury of a tropical resort.

   The sun was fading, casting brilliant shades of colours across the wide sky, so visible from the expanse of the hotel. Almost for a second, closing my eyes to hear the soft tune of a man singing in another language and playing a guitar, I imagined I was in paradise. When I reopened my eyes, I still was.

   We entered through the lobby, most of us still riddled with sleep in our eyes. We were escorted to our rooms; presidential luxury suites with a private spa and pool, with double doors that opened right up to the beach. There were seven separate rooms; each with a massive bed donned with soft chiffon sheets, and doors that opened up to a patio overlooking the ocean.

   “God, this is amazing,” I said in a hushed whisper, looking around. Personally, I couldn’t think of a better place to have my birthday.

   Louis, bless his soul, ushered us off to all our rooms to get ready for dinner. Just as I pulling my dress on, Harry came in, wearing what have been the best-looking suit possible, closing the door behind him.

   “What are you wearing?” I barked, a little embarrased. I didn’t even know why. His eyes scanned me in the way they always did, appreciate yet quite watchful.

   “Oh, this? This is my old tux. I wore it to my mum’s wedding,” he smiled, not taking his eyes off me, “But, oh my god, you look beautiful.”

   “It’s nothing,” I said with a blush, but he walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist, gazing at me with only what I could call adoration.

   “Seventeen,” he mumbled, leaning down, his teeth grazing my ear. I shuddered inexplicably. “I really can’t believe it. I like this now, you see, I’ve finally got some alone time with you.”

   “H-Haz,” I mumbled, trying not to enjoy myself too much, “We’ve got…dinner.” Right, and dinner was the first thing on my mind. I tried hard not to think about his hands which were resting on my bare back, sending shivers through me. And him in that tux.

   “Mm,” he mumbled, lips moving again and pressing a slow kiss on my neck. “Or…you and I could spend the night in here.” You have _no_ idea how much I just wanted to kiss him right there, and yes, let him take me, but I resisted the urge. Especially when I remembered the primary reason _why_.

   “Harry,” I said carefully, with a soft giggle, pushing him off me. His green eyes searched mine. “I can’t. Not now.”

   “Later?”

   “Maybe,” I teased and he whined like a kid.

   “Bec-”

   “HELLO?” yelled Louis, sounding muffled through the glass. Haz and I jumped as we noticed Louis standing outside on my patio, rapping on the glass at us. “DINNER?” He himself was wearing a loose tux atire. Really? What had they all done? “Nice dress, Bec.” I gave him the thumbs up.

   “You too, Lou,” I shot back, “We’ll be right out.” I looked at Harry as Louis retreated. “Don’t look at me like that.”

   “You really are beautiful,” he admitted, laying a kiss on my cheek and taking my hand, “Now let’s go celebrate your birthday, shall we?” As usual, I obliged with another thought.

   The six of us had dinner at the hotel restaurant, which was quite classy actually. We sat outside, watching at the sky fade in purples and blues, all of us sitting around a large table, sharing a massive amount of food. Soon, it was getting darker and the candles were lit. A bottle of wine was passed around, me excluded because apparently they didn’t want me getting drunk again.

   Finally when the final dying rays of light were poking out from the horizon, I stared out at sea. It was beautiful. The waves were crashing on the beach, dark and powerful, a gust of seabreeze washed over as we sat laughing around dinner. Then Louis tapped his spoon against his glass, raising unsteadily to his feet, due to the fact that he already had a few.

   “A toast!” he announced, waving his empty glass around, and the others mimcked him. “Pour me more wine Haz…yes, a toast! To my best friend, Bec Lowthorne, a very happy merry seventeenth birthday!”

   “To Bec!” crowed Harry, gulping down the chardonnay. The others guffawed and did the same.

   “And now,” said Louis in a low voice, and Zayn started smacking the table agressively for a drum roll. “CAKE TIME!!”

   They all pointed towards the restaurant and i spun around, seeing a few of the waiters bringing over something worthy of a wedding cake. It was absolutely smothered in whipped cream. I could have died, I loved whipped cream more than anything in the world. And what was that? Tiny little figurines in the cake. Of them. Pure classic, Louis.

   The boys started yelling Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs, not giving a crap about what anyone else said. I laughed more freely than I ever remember laughing before. The other people eating around us watched on enviously.

   They should be jealous, I thought, as the cake was set down infront of me, the fizzing candles sparking out like fireworks. Not only was I in Cabo on a spontaneous birthday trip, or because I had the biggest, most delicious, gorgeous birthday cake I had ever laid eyes on, but because I had the five most amazing boys in the world to be there with me.

 

***

 

   After absolutely destorying, mutilating and stuffing our faces in my birthday cake, we grabbed our stuff, a bottle of wine and headed down to the beach. By then, it was twilight, and the stars were reemerging. I loved the sound of birds, the rush of the sea, the feel of sand.

   As I hopped down onto the sand, I hobbled around until I took off my heels, carrying them swinging in one hand.

   “Wait here!” exclaimed Niall, suddenly. He had quite a few himself. “We’ve got to her presents, remember? We didn’t have time before we left for the airport.” The five abruptly turned on their heels and ran back up the beach to our suite. I plopped down on the sand, right at the top of a gradual slope which was out of reach by the waves.

   I leant back on my hands, closing my eyes and digging my fingers into the sand. I had forgotten it was dark, that I couldn’t really hear people approaching on sand, just as I felt five bodies collide with mine and I let out a scream of surprise, as we tumbled down the slope in a giant mass. By the time we reached the bottom, Liam’s head was under my arm and Zayn’s leg was wrapped around my other.

   We were laughing, though we were also spitting sand from our mouths as we struggled to sit up. There the six of us sat, in a small circle, pulling sand and shells from various places.

   “Well,” said Liam finally, “I reckon we can safely say that today was an amazing day.” He smiled at me. Ever since I arrived I never really felt fully welcome by him, maybe because of the Niall circumstance, but now he was back, I missed his paternal hold.

   “I know,” I said softly, “I can’t thank you guys enough. This was undoubtedly the best day of my life. Not just because of where we’re sitting, but because I’m with you guys.” The others crooned.

   “AWW!” cried Zayn, who had a tendency to turn in an emotional wreck when drunk. He latched himself around my waist in a squeezy hug. “We love you too, Bec. Happy seventeenth.” Disconnecting himself from me, he reached down to the sand infront of him and picked up a box.

   “Can I open it?”

   “Go ahead.” I slowly unwrapped the present, until I gave up and started tearing it to pieces. I tossed wrapping aside, vowing it pick it up and put it in a rubbish bin later. I held it out and grinned immediately.

   “A play dough set!” I cried, dropping it and hugging Zayn, “You remembered!”

   “How could I forget?” he laughed, holding onto me, “That story about you making play dough food and feeding them to your dog will stay with me forever.”

   “Me next!” volunteered Louis, dumping his present at my feet, “You’ll never realise how important this is to me.” I opened it carefully, and let out a faint shriek, flinging the box away and scrambling across the sand. Louis was hysterical.

   “Oh fuck you Louis,” I gasped, crawling back,”I thought it was real!”

   “What is it?” asked Liam curiously, leaning over. “Oh god, really Lou?”

   “KEVIN!” he laughed, smacking the sand, “Right from the original video diaries. Every single girl in the world would die to have their hands on that pigeon.”

   I cautiously picked up the faux pigeon, as if expecting it to coo at me, spread its wings and fly off.

   “He’s…actually gorgeous,” I said, blowing Louis a kiss, “Thanks Lou, I’ll get you back.” I set Kevin the pigeon down beside me with my play dough set and turned back to the group. Liam handed me a soft package, and my hands fastened around it. I tore it open and laughed in delight.

   “A KNIT!” I exclaimed, “Thank you so much! This is what I’ve needed for about three years.” It was soft, warm and a gorgeous burgundy colour. I slipped it over my dress and gave him a grateful smile. Not only just for the present. “Thanks, Li.”

   “No problem, glad you like it,” he replied, pointing to Niall, “You next!” I studied him closely, he seemed almost sheepish as he handed me a wrapped box, just a tiny bit bigger than my palm. I accepted it gently; he seemed a little nervous about it.

   “Careful,” he warned, “It’s a little delicate. It nearly killed customs to let me in on this one.” I removed the neat wrapping- probably by his own hand having seen him speed wap things before- and emitted a tiny gasp. I held up the box to the lights which just reached the beach from the hotel.

   It was a music box.

   Delicate, wooden, with faded handpainted drawings on the side in turqoise and deep red. It had a clear, smooth polish over it, and the latch was made from engraved gilt. My heart nearly stopped beating at how breathtaking it was.

   I must have sat there gaping at it for a while, because he eventually chuckled and said,

   “You can play it, you know?”

  “Of course,” I said, snapping back to life. I set it down cautiously in my lap like a new born baby, and reached around, my fingers slowly twisting the knob at the back of the box. I twisted it five times, then put it down in the middle of the circle, and lifted the lid.

   Out drifted the saddest and sweetest melody I ever heard. It was probably the cold going to my head, but part of me wanted to dance up and down the beach laughing, and the other part wanted to start sobbing my heart out. In the middle was a tiny crystal dragonfly, spinning around in circles.

   When the gears topped and the music faded, I wanted to reach over and listen to it again and again. But I just looked up at Niall, who eyes were already laid on me, as though he’d been watching my reaction the whole time, and smiled.

   “It’s beautiful,” I said quietly, “Thank you so much.” He merely nodded, and looked away. Yes, I could thank him. First step to being friends.

   “And now,” said Zayn dramatically, “HAZ!”

   “Oh shush,” scoffed Harry, reaching into his jacket pocket, “It’s nothing special like Niall’s, or warm like Liam’s, or fun like Zayn’s, or… _interesting_ like Louis’.”

   Louis stuck his tongue out and crossed his arms across his chest like a frustrated chlld.

   “I thought it’d mean something to you,” Haz finished, with a self-deprecating sigh. It was a tiny box this time, not wrapping, but a soft velvet exterior and a slight arch. It sat snugly in my palm and I prised the lid open gently as I could.

   I nearly dropped the thing out of pure shock. My hand slipped and the box snapped shut as I tried to process what I had laid eyes on.

   “Fuck!”

   “Don’t you like it?” said Harry, looking worried as his eyebrows furrowed, making him look caught between frustrating and adorable. I shook my head vehemently, trying to give it back to him.

   “It’s too much!” I gasped, “What were you think- I can’t…it’s just…”

   “What _is it_?” riled Louis anxiously, “Haz, Bec?”

   “You have to,” protested Harry, with pleading green eyes, “It’s to make up. For everything I’ve done, and everything I will do. _Please_ Bec, you will never have to accept another gift from me. Promise!”

   “But, but Harry,” I whispered with wide eyes as he wrapped his hand around mine, enclosing it over the velvet box and pushing it back to me. “It’s so…oh my god. It’s just so…”

   “Perfect?” supplied Louis hopefully and Liam tutted.

   “Let her catch her breath Lou,” he advised as I settled back onto the sand, the dark velvet box in my palm.

   Gently again, I reached over and prised the lid open, this time letting it fall open the entire way. The others gathered around, staring down at the present. The silence ensuing was a little more in shock.

   “Well screw you Haz,” whispered Zayn, in awe, “I thought this was a birthday present, not a proposal.”

   “It’s not!” huffed Harry protectively, but his words were stopped as I threw my arms around his neck and pressed a massive kiss to his lips. He was surprised at first, but relaxed immediately, responding by pulling me closer to him, arm around my waist. How I could resist?

   Just as I felt his head tilt to the side, I hastily pulled away. His eyes were gleaming, smilng at me. A stray curl fell across his face and he ruffled his entire head of hair, before flinging it to the side was a melodramatic toss. I burst out laughing.

   “Thanks Haz,” I mumbled, leaning against him as I scooped up my present.

   A gorgeous gold necklace, shaped like a snowflake, and a small red crystal in the very centre. I didn’t even want to think how much it had cost him, but it was so perfect part of me wanted to die. He reached over, extricated it from the velvet cushioning and I noticed the emblem on the bottom of the cushion.

   Well fuck me, it was Tiffany.

   I had hardly any time to breathe before he gently fastened it around my neck. I rested against my chest. He yawned, trying to hide how tired he was. I was no fool. Slowly he lay down , and I laid down next to him. Just staring at the sky, watching it, listening to the waves.

   The others began to move, until we were all lying down in the sand, in a neat row, just quiet and receptive. It was so calm and peaceful, and with my bunch of perfect presents, there was nothing I’d rather be doing, nowhere I’d rather be. I nearly dozed off a few times and heard the guys doing the same.

   We just lay there in silence, with quiet smiles on our faces.

   I couldn’t tell, but it must have been nearing the early hours of the morning when I felt something lap against my feet. At first my eyes fluttered open, and I thought about it. I was probably imagining it. I snuggled deeper into the warm sand, I could feel the warmth of Harry next to me.

   I was just about to drift off when I felt it again. Cold, reaching towards my thights this time. _Oh it’s nothing,_ I thought complacently. Then again, reaching up past the hem of my dress and making me start. It was wet. The tide was rising. I struggled to sit up as another wave rushed up the sand and practically found its way up my spine, which I had never let anyone else apart from a boy do.

   I yelped and scrambled up, as the others were jolted up to find themselves completely soaked waist down with another massive wave falling in and rushing throug their jackets. At once, we were all screaming and hopping around, rudely awoken and abruptly cold and wet, as the water lapped out ankles.

   Shrieking, partially with laughter, still shaking out the sand and trying to escape the cold of the water, we tore up the beach like mad men.


	14. I Should've Kissed You

 

 

_Present Day  
December, 2012_

 

  
  
   “I don’t believe this,” I huffed, folding my arms over my chest, “Allof you? Every single one of you? All _five_ of you?”

   “Yeah, everyone except Niall,” pointed out Liam, while he continued to try knitting. Apparently it was for Danielle’s present. God, what he wouldn’t do for her. Thinking about that, I hadn’t even met Danielle yet.

   But yes, Liam, I clearly ignored that part of this argument.

   “But…but,” I said with an unhappy frown, “You’ll all be spending Christmas with your families? Even Louis? I mean, it _is_ his 21st you know.”

   “It’s just Lou,” sighed Zayn, “He misses them.”

   “Oh Bec, don’t worry, we’ll miss you,” said Liam sweetly, “You have friends you can celebrate Christmas with, right?” I shuffled uncomfortably around in my seat on the couch, because it was true that these five boys were probably my closest friends.

   “I wanna spend with _you_ guys,” I said weakly.

   “Aww, Bec!” crooned Zayn, launching himself on top of me and pinching my cheek. I laughed, trying to shove him off me, until I ended up splayed across his lap.

   I remembered how Harry used to do that. Urgh. Harry. I didn’t even want to think about him right now, to be honest. Yes, after that little episode in my bedroom where I had barely been able to fend him off if it wasn’t for Louis’ interruption, I had gone down later on the beach and nearly made out with him infront of the other guys.

   The worst part was-

   “I know!” said Liam enthusiastically, interrupting my thoughts, “What if you spend Christmas with Niall?” I nearly died inside.

   What a terrible, terrible idea Liam. What would make you possibly say that? It was hard to tell when he was lying. Even just staring into his eyes, I couldn’t tell whether it was a ruse to get Niall and I to spend more time together or not.

   “With…with Niall?” I said uncertainly. “Isn’t he going back home?”

   “Nah, Mullingar doesn’t want him,” said Zayn, leaning over me with a joking grin. He grabbed his phone as it chimed.

   “No, Paul wants to keep us all in London over the holidays,” Liam explained reasonably, which made more sense than Zayn’s answer. “So, he’ll just be alone upstairs. It’s perfect! You can spend Christmas with him, we can all Skype and everything!”

   “I’d have to ask him, he might have other plans,” I said as an excuse. Oh, _please_ have more interesting things to do then spend Christmas with me.

   “We’d hate to see you alone on Christmas, Bec.”

   “I know,” I said because I knew deep down every single one of them deserved to be at home with their families at Christmas time. “I know.” Maybe I was just selfish, wanting to spend so much time with them. They weren’t _mine_.

   “Bec, can you pass me that instruction manual?” asked Liam politely, with a thread between his teeth, fingers tangled in the knitting sticks, nodding towards the scrap piece of paper on the coffee table. I scooped it up and dumped it down beside him.

   “This is painful,” said Zayn, motioning to Liam’s ‘knit’ attempt, “Why don’t you put him out of his misery and just help him to make it, Bec?”

   “Hmm?” I said, in faint surprise, “What? Oh. I can’t knit.”

   “What?” demanded Zayn, “But you’re a girl!”

   “So?”

   “Don’t all girls know how to knit?”

   “No,” I snapped defensively, eyes narrowing, “Not another sexist word from you, Malik.”

   “It’s not sexist!” he protested, “God Bec, you’re so sensitive.” I scoffed just as Louis walked in, holding his phone and spinning around. He looked vaguely confused, and I don’t think he was the only one.

   “Lou knows how to knit, ask him,” I advised to Liam as he tried to loop the thread in his mouth around his thumb. “Please.”

   “I heard my name,” said Louis walking over and dropping his phone on the couch, “What’s up my- oh my god Liam, what on earth is that?”

   “A scarf,” grumbled Liam with a mouthful of thread, “For Dani.”

   “Oh god, I really hoped you weren’t planning to give that to someone,” sighed Louis, reaching over and beginning to disentangle his friend from the mess, “Seriously Liam, it looks like it’ll wake up and eat you in the middle of the night.”

   Zayn chortled, but I patted Liam sympathetically on the back.

   “I bet she’ll love it,” I said reassuringly. I remembered suddenly that I hadn’t checkd  on him on how Danielle and him were going. He seemed alright, so was that a good sign or not? Maybe I’d get an answer from him later, when we were alone.

   “Thanks Bec,” he said in a hopeful voice. God, he was really the most decent person ever.

   “Hey, hey, hey,” said Zayn sitting up so fast I nearly rolled of his lap and fell on the floor. My arms flailed and fastened themselves around his neck. He was too preoccupied with his phone to notice. “Look at this!”

   He held it up and I craned my neck back to read the article heading.

   HARRY STYLES TOGETHER WITH HIGH SCHOOL FRIEND.

   “Together?” barked Louis, sounding high-pitched, “Like dating, together?”

   “Apparently so,” said Zayn with a raised eyebrow as he scrolled through the article, “Blah, blah…last night at an inner city restaurant blah, blah, blah- his old high school friend, Ellis Calcutt!”

   “Ellis…Calcutt,” I said slowly, “Wait, who’s this chick?”

   “You’re the only chick who calls other chicks, chicks,” sighed Zayn, shaking his head, “But no, have you heard of her? Papers are going crazy, bro. They caught a snap of her and Haz making out last night!” It took a vague moment to process it before I started laughing.

   “Oh Haz,” I muttered with a barely supressible grin. For some reason, I felt vaguely relieved. “ _That’s_ where he must have gone! Is she hot?”

   “Bec, you might wanna leave Harry’s new girlfriend alone,” warned Liam, jokingly. Or at least I thought it was jokingly.

   “Pffft,” I replied dismissively, waving my hand at him, “So she’s definitely going out with him this time, eh? No rumours or denial, no nothing?”

   “He sounds OK about it in his article,” said Zayn sounding surprised, “She’s alright, she’s normal. They used to go to school together. She’s like you, Bec.”

   “Excuse me?” I said, “Like me _how_?”

   “Like…like, she’s not famous or anything,” said Zayn carefully, knowing if he mistepped now I could most definitely hit him. “Never met before though.”

   “I met her once,” piped up Louis, who had been saying little since the topic of Harry had come up. “She was a bit of a ditz. Not as bad as some of the ones that Haz hangs with, but in a borderline bearable sort of way, which makes it, if possible, even more annoying. I mean, can’t she just make up her mind and choose whether she wants to be a bimbo or a slut?”

   “Jeez, Louis, calm down,” said Liam tersely, “A bit harsh there. I bet she’s a nice girl.”

   “Everyone’s nice in your eyes, Liam,” pointed out Zayn, just as Niall waltzed in holding a bag of Nando’s. No wonder it was mostly what people assosciated with him, he was so predictable sometimes. He plonked down between Liam and I, before immediately diving into his bag enthusiastically.

   “What chu talking about?” he asked, and I slid down the sofa, feeling my hair messing up against the sofa back. I didn’t care. He took a massive bite out of a wrap and I vaguely remembered wondering how big the inside of his mouth must be, while I chewed absent mindedly on one of the drawstrings on my hoodie.

   “This chick Haz is going out with,” said Zayn, “He’s gonna get a whopping when he gets back. Not a word, really! And now… he’s her boyfriend! Just like that, that boy’s crazy, I swear.”

   “Harry’s got a girlfriend?” he repeated in surprise, eyes widening slightly as he cheeks bulged with food. How long had that filming gone for? He was eating like he had just finished the 48 hour famine. He turned to me and I blinked. “Wabout you?”

   “What about me?” I replied, almost defiantly. In my defence, I was too busy being distracted to remember what his question was about.

   “I thought you and Haz were like…” he trailed off looking uncertain, dropping his gaze and hastily stuffing another bunch of chips in his mouth. “Never mind.”

   “It’s alright,” I said in a slightly louder voice, as though I thought people might not hear me if I said it any softer. Way to make things awkward, Niall. Thanks. “Haz and I are just friends.” I was almost certain a brief silence would ensue, just to take away the credibility of my previous statement, so I added in carelessly, “Anyway, I have a boyfriend.”

   Niall gagged on his food and the others let out cries of disbelief and shock.

   “ _What the FUCK are you talking about?”_ gasped Louis, crawling over the back of the sofa and finally showing interest in the conversation. “A boyfriend! This better not be a fucking joke, Bec!”

   “Since when did you have a _boyfriend_?” demanded Zayn, sitting up straight, and I nearly fell off him again. “I thought Harry was the only one keeping secrets from us!”

   “It’s not a secret,” I answered nonchalantly, “No one asked. So I didn’t say anything.” Louis slapped my shoulder.

   “Don’t give us that crap,” he sniffed, “Who is he?”

   “Just a guy I met,” I said, with a shrug. It was true, wasn’t it? Well I don’t know if he was considered my boyfriend yet, but I liked Lakyn. And when he sung, that godly voice! Urgh, what a terrible weakness I had for musos. “Singer.”

   “Singer!” crowed Zayn, laughing his head off, “No wonder you can’t stay away from us, you’re into singers! You’re a double-groupie, Bec.”

   “What the fuck!” I laughed, “Have we not moved past the stage where I’m considered a groupie? And no, I’m not his groupie either. I’m his girlfriend, there’s quite a difference.”

   “I beg to differ,” retorted Louis, “They serve the same essential purposes.”

   “Oi you,” I snapped, punching him in the arm, making him emit a weak whimper. “Shut up. Not another word before I lay one in that pretty face of yours.”

   “What’s his name? What sort of music?” asked Niall, chewing repetitively on one chicken wing.

   “Lakyn,” I replied, “His name’s Lakyn Heperi. He’s an indie singer.”

   “What kind of fucking name…is Lakyn?” Louis asked, screwing up his face, “An _indie_ singer? _Really_ , Bec? I expected so much more. Like an A-lister movie star, or at least an _indie_ movie star. Are you still not through your hipster phase?”

   “I never had a hipster phase!” I protested, “And he’s a sweetie, don’t you dare say a word against him.”

   “Liam here’s a sweetie and I will say every word against him,” replied Louis bounding up and laying a kiss on Liam’s head, “Niall, you haven’t finished yet? That stuff’s making me hungry.”

   “No!” he cried, scrunching the top of the bag up possessively and balling up into his protective food mode. “Get your own!” He was still chewing obsessively over that chicken wing. It must have been really overcooked or something.

   “It was worth a try,” shrugged Louis, resuming his usual spot, perched on the edge of the sofa, “Bec, you should invite his Lavin guy around.”

   “Lakyn,” I corrected, “And no. You’d scare the crap out of him.”

   “You’re that ashamed of us?”

   “You don’t want me to answer that,” I said stubbornly, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out like a child.

   “Oh,” said Zayn with a smirk, “I see how it is. Bec’s too ashamed of us mainstream artists, for her to introduce her hipster indie singing boyfriend who owns an ironic art gallery and wears clothes from the flea market.”

   “I- no!” I said defensively, “And he does not shop at the flea market. You guys are bullies.”

   “You’re insensitive,” shot back Louis, “Go drink a double milk latte, Bec. Standard flat white’s too mainstream for you.” I laughed and smacked him with a pillow.

   “Prick,” I muttered, just as the door opened and Harry walked back in. It was chaos. Louis jumped up and hurtled at him like they were magnetised in their asses. Zayn yelled,

   “VAS HAPPENIN!” He hadn’t in a while actually.

   “Harry Styles, you douchebag,” Louis growled as Haz stumbled over slightly and dropped his bag on the kitchen countertop, “You better have a good explanation to where you’ve been.”

   “I do,” he replied earnestly, grinning at me, “Hi, Bec.”

   “Oh,” saidd Louis, drawing away from the hug, and pulling a mockingly offended face. “ _Oh._ Ms. Lowthorne here gets a hi, but not one of us do?”

   “I was going to say hi,” he defended, walking over and kissing my head affectionately, just as Louis had similarly done to Liam. “What’s up, guys?”

   “What’s up?” demanded Liam, “This news of you dating Elllis!”

   “Ellis?” he repeated, looking confused, “Who said I’m dating Ellis?”

   “Uh…y _ou_ did?” replied Liam pointedly, holding out his phone, with the article on the screen. “Harry and Ellis! It’s right there, Haz, you said it yourself.”

   “I’m not going out with Ellis,” he protested, glancing ta the phone dismissively before handing it back, “What the fuck is this? I never even said that. I’m gonna call Paul, this is all false crap the media’s making up as usual. Fuck.” He stormed off into his room and we blinked after him.

   “Is that even possible?” I asked, “I thought he said it himself he was with her. I thought they went out last night. I…what?”

   “Haz, don’t overreact, someone just got their facts wrong,” Zayn called after him, but he stormed back into the living room, holding his phone in his hand, looking furious.

   “Someone _always_ gets their facts wrong,” he muttered, jabbing his finger on the touch screen impatiently. “This is out of line, Ellis just my friend, I don’t know what they think they’re playing at.”

   “Calm down, Curly,” said Louis patiently, “You can’t start cussing over the phone, Paul’s gonna kick your ass. Just… _breathe_ for a second, buddy.” Harry took a deep shuddering breath in, then exhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. “Here, have some interesting news. Bec’s got a boyfriend!”

   “Lou!”

   “Everyone else knows!”

   “What?” demanded Harry, staring right at me with wide eyes, “You’ve got a boyfriend? Since when?”

   “Just a week or two ago,” I replied, almost feeling defensive, with a noncommittal shrug, “It’s not a big deal.”

   “Who is this guy?” he asked, not taking his eyes off me. It reminded me of the way he used to look at me, back on tour. It made me feel naked, exposed, self-conscious. I couldn’t even meet his insistent gaze.

   “He’s an indie singer,” volunteered Zayn with a wicked grin, “Lakyn Heperi. He’s _gorgeous_ according to Bec.” He grinned at me and nudged me with his elbow.

   “He is,” I answered, looking at the others and avoiding Harry’s gaze, “You guys would really like him.” There was a short silence, and I heard Harry emit a deep sigh. I looked over at him; leaning over the kitchen counter top, phone in hand with anxious Louis beside him.

   “OK, you know what?” he sighed, “I’m done playing games. Guys, I’m not dating Ellis. I’m dating…I’m seeing Emma again.”

   “Emma?” cried Niall, sitting up, through a mouthful of food, “You mean Emma Ostilly who you hooked up with back on tour?”

   “The very same,” he said with a smug grin, leaning back, “Emma Ostilly. We caught up the other day. Last night with Ellis was nothing. We just went for a coffee and she was pecking me on the cheek…ah, screw it, people can think what they want.”

   “Wait, so you’re dating too?” I asked, feeling an unexpected feeling rise up inside me, “Since when?”

   “The other night,” he replied, staring me in the eyes. “Like I said.” How is it one moment I was fine and happy for him dating his old friend from high school, but suddenly the thought of him dating Emma Ostilly pissed me off more than it ever should?

   I had never even met her before, I knew it was unfair, but I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. Harry and Emma. Emmarry. Even their couple name had the word ‘marry’ in it. I found myself running my fingers over the small snowflake necklace on my neck. I dropped my hand guiltily and turned away, so he couldn’t see my face.

   I should be happy.

   This took away all those complications created in Cabo. The fact that he’d touched me every where he shouldn’t and I’d made out with him on the beach despite I was with Lakyn at the time. Did he think me just some easy girl who could be so easily led astray? I must have appeared that way to him.

   In fact, I had done to same thing to the blonde boy wedged beside me, cramming his adorable face with food. With the same guy. Except I guess with Niall, it was different. Harry was his friend, and I had practically gone all the way with him. Twice.

   “Bec?” Liam’s voice intruded my thoughts. I blinked and glanced at him. “You’re not doing anything for Christmas are you?” I narrowed my eyes and gave him a suspicious look.

   “No,” I said slowly and Niall’s head snapped towards me.

   “You’re not doing anything?” he repeated, “You’re not going anywhere?”

   “I- I don’t think so,” I stammered, a little taken aback by how strangely enthusiastic about this he seemed. “Why?”

   “You should spend it with me,” he said immediately with a small smile, “Better together than alone, right?” I tried not to freeze. Instead I pretended none of them were here, and spread into a face splitting smile. I could see Liam smirking over his knitting mess. Stupid Liam. He never smirked.

   “Totally,” I said with matching eagerness, “It’ll be much more fun.”

   “So you two will spending Christmas together, eh?” said Harry walking around the counter, pressing his fingers to his eyes and sighing, “Well that sounds fun.”




   “What about this boyfriend of yours?” he inquired, brushing his hand over his nose and continuing to stare at me. For god’s sake, what did he _want_?

   “Lakyn?” I said, with a shrug, “We’re not really serious yet, so what’s the point of spending Christmas with him?”

   “Bonding?” he suggested as he turned around and started rifling through his pocket. He pulled out his phone. “I don’t know, Bec.”

   “Right,” I said, hauling myself to my feet, “Well, it’s getting late. I should get going, then, shouldn’t I?” It wasn’t a question that I wanted answered, but Zayn did anyway.

   “No!” he cried, clinging onto me, “Bec, stay, we’ll order in and we can a have sleepover. I just wanna do something normal. We won’t see each other for a while.”

   “For _two days_ Zayn,” I laughed lightly, “I’d love to, but I’ve got plans.”

   “Plans?” asked Louis curiously, “With _who_ exactly?” I rolled my eyes.

   “Can I not have a boyfriend without you guys going all ‘To Catch a Predator’ on him?” I demanded, “We’re just going for dinner, anyway.”

   “What if he spikes your drink?”

   “We’re not going to a strip club, Zayn.”

   “Remember to be safe?”

   “ _Liam_!”

   “Have a good time,” said Niall with a grin and I pointed at him.

   “Finally!” I snapped, “Finally, someone who isn’t going mad over this! Thank you, Niall. For god’s sake, I’m just going for dinner.”

   “Where?”

   “Any words of advice, Haz?” added Louis, glancing at Harry who had been oddly quiet this entire time. He looked up and our eyes flickered to each other for a split second. His gaze dropped and he shrugged.

   “Go home and change.” I blinked.

   “What?”

   “Nothing, have a good time, Bec,” he grumbled something unintelligible as he walked off to his room.

   I stared after him for a moment, before storming out of the apartment, making the effort to slam the door behind me as hard as I could.

 

***

 

   I have had two boyfriends. The first was just a stupid high school thing, which in hindsight, was one of the dumbest things I’d ever done. I had been thirteen.

   After we had split off, we talked a bit in the first week, but after I realised that I really couldn’t tolerate even being his friend anymore, so we never talked again. Apparently, it was some sort of blow to his manly pride, because the next thing I was hearing from my friend who was going out with my ex’s best friend, was the full details on how far we had gone.

   How far we had gone!

   That incident probably explained the anger in me all the time. I had half a mind to march up to him in school and smash his brains out with my fist. That fucking dickhead. The worst part of all those rumours were that they weren’t even true.

   Someone said something about me being easy and giving head. Then, that was it. I was just labelled another skank, and going to an all girl’s school, it was even worse. The only thing I’d ever done with that idiot was kiss him- another mistake in hindsight. That was the total and honest truth. Looking back, it was still one of worst things had happened to me.

   Ironically, the one of the worst things that I had done followed with my second relationship.

   Still reeling, unsure about guys in general, even a year and half after the occurrence, I had gotten my second boyfriend when I was sixteen, just what- ten months ago? I didn’t even truly know who he was, until I found out through pure chance of being caught out by my older sister who happened to be One Direction crazy. But the thing was, even before that, I still felt the same way for him; I knew _him_. Not Niall-Horan-from-One-Direction. Just Niall.

   Then I did something I never thought would even part of my nature. I cheated.

   So sitting down for an actual proper date wasn’t something I was much accustomed to, especially with someone as totally knee-knockingly hot as Lakyn. He seemed to be to tell; he was chivalrous to an extent it was almost annoying.

   Conversations with him didn’t feel as entertaining than it would be with any of the other guys. Not that I’d go out with any of them boys; not because they weren’t the most downright appealing guys I had ever met, but because they were like my brothers and best friends. It’d be fucking weird.

   Still, I liked him, plus he was hot.

   We finished dessert and he walked me back to campus, with a gentle kiss on my cheek as a goodbye. I closed the door behind me and let out a giant huff of air as though I hadn’t been able to breathe. Was it bad that I felt relieved that that was over? It was all dark, as I walked across the threshold, rummaging through my sling bag for my phone.

   I cursed, unable to find it.

   “Where’s that piece of crap?” I hissed to myself. I realised, I must have left it back at Haz and Louis’. I hesitated whether to go back there, but I shrugged, deciding that I needed my phone more than I needed the majority of my pride. I turned around and headed back out the door to catch a cab.

   By the time I reached their place, it was past midnight.

   I entered the breathtaking lobby of the Mantle Complex Apartments, the warm golden light spilling out onto the damp, cold streets from the ten foot long crystal chandeliers. I pushed through the rotating doors, waving to the doorman who I’d gotten to recognise due to my frequent visits. He waved back with a smile.

   “Hello Ms Lowthorne,” greeted the receptionist, a middle aged bloke called Frank. It seemed it was almost as though I lived here myself.

   “Hi Frank,” I replied, waving, as I hurried past the desk, “Let me up?” I was eager to be in and out quickly.

   “To the Styles and Tomlinson residence?” he inquired. I nodded. Where else? I left my phone there, and I didn’t need to see Liam on level six. As far as I intended, I wasn’t going to making any solo spontaneous appearances on level eight anytime soon.

   I got into the lift, felt it rising until I chimed open at level seven. Tucking my hands into my coat, I looked down at the perfectly clean, carpeted floor, watching my knee high brown boots move against it. I arrived at Haz and Louis’.

   I turned on the spot and stared at the incriminating door number staring straight back at me in all it’s polished glory. I raised my hand and knocked on the door several times. I waited for a few moments, before the door swung open, and there stood Zayn, wearing flannelette pyjama pants and a giant hoodie which looked like it would be big on the Abominable Snowman.

   “BEC!” he cried with a mouthful of cake, spraying with tiny crumbs. He opened his arms before grabbing me and tugging me back inside. “Com in! Howwa  the da?” He swallowed and coughed a few times, as we walked into the living room. “I mean, how was the date?”

   “Fine,” I said flatly, my eyes landing on Harry who was sitting on the couch, wearing his grey beanine, his eyes weary-looking as though he’d just woken up. He looked up at me and blinked slowly.

   “Bec,” he groaned, “Why do you look so good at this time of night?” Compliments weren’t going to help, I was still in an absolutely foul mood, and no disposition to be talking to him. I ignored him as Louis walked in, wearing his pyjamas.

   “Bec!” he said sounding surprised, “Back so late! How did the date go with Laker?”

   “Lakyn,” I corrected, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. “And it was fine. I just came back for my phone, I think I left here before.”

   “Aww, not for our company?” simpered Louis, before shrugging, “Ah well. It should be around here.” He waved his arm in the general direction of the extent of the living room. Helpful.

   I sighed, adjusting my bag as I walked over to the couch where Harry lay, blanket thrown over his legs, watching me wearily. I pushed the pillows out of the way and searched between the cushions but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I made a frustrated noise, looking at Harry.

   “Have you seen it?” He stared, before shaking his head slowly. Why didn’t he just sleep? He struggled to sit up straight, slowing shifting his legs as if trying to coax some feeling back into them.

   I straightened up and walked towards the bathroom. I jolted when I saw Louis standing there, his reflection grinning toothily back at me.

   “Hi there Bec,” he said and I approached him cautiously. “You look ruffled.”

   “I’m fine,” I replied stoically and he turned around, taking my face in one his hands. He squinted, surveying my face.

   “You sure?”

   “Mhmm.”

   “Babe,” he said quiety, shutting the bathroom door behind me, “Is this about that bitchy comment Haz made before? Forget him. He’s just insanely bitter.” I wanted to say a million things at once. No, I wasn’t upset by it (though by truth I was pissed off), I couldn’t just possibly ‘forget him’, and I had no idea where Louis got the idea that Harry was bitter. He just, for some reason, seemed angry.

   One moment, the curly haired weirdo was happy, the next pissed at the press, the next with his subtle anger directed at me.

   In fact I was so overconsumed by thoughts, all that slipped from my mouth was a disharmonious chord of;

   “Well I- why would…no, I just…” I trailled off, deciding silence was much more convicting. “It’s just so abrupt that’s all. All of a sudden he’s not Harry the womaniser. He’s Harry the boyfriend.”

   “Yes but Bec, he’s not _your_ boyfriend,” pointed out Louis evenly.

   “I know that!” I said blushing fiercely, “No…it’s just, I don’t understand why he’s so…urgh, he’s making it complicated.”

   “You did a pretty good job of that in Cabo,” Louis smirked, turning back around to face the mirror. He reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. “I mean that kiss on the beach!”

   “Don’t remind me about that!” I moaned, genuinely not wanting to recall the event. “I was with Lakyn! What was I even _thinking_?”

   “You weren’t,” he sighed, “I know how you are around him, Bec. The both of you are like loose cannons.”

  “I don’t know how to act around him anymore.”

   “You guys should talk,” suggested Louis, squirting out standard toothpaste on to his toothbrush, “I mean, you’re constantly sleeping in the same bed and cuddling and doing little kisses and flirting. Think about it, how’s his new girlfriend gonna like that? How’s Latin gonna like that?”

   “Lakyn,” I corrected impatiently. “And I’ve only been seeing him for a few weeks, and ever since I’ve got here, the worst thing I’ve possibly done is give Haz a little peck!”

  “Bec, don’t try convince me, convince Haz!” he replied, looking at me in the mirror. “Can I ask you something? What does Niall have on this?” My head snapped up reflexively to meet Louis’ smirk.

   “What’s Niall got to do with this?” I demanded.

   “Well, he was first to officially have you,” Louis said carefully, eyeing me as though I might jump him, “And then when you got here, you were practically joined at the hip with Harry. How was he with that?”

   “Louis, I still don’t see how this has got anything to do with Harry,” I snapped, folding my arms.

   “Je _sus_ Bec, tell me you’ve at least _talked_ to him about it!”

   “We have, we have!” I blurted, “We’re just friends about it, there’s nothing more.”

   “And Harry?”

   “We never discussed him.”

   “And _why_ not?”

   “B-because,” I said uncertainly, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, “I don’t know, it just never came up.”

   “I only ask because I don’t even know what you and Harry were,” he sighed, “Some friends who had sex thing. I mean, now that you guys are in relationships, maybe you should figure out where the moral line is drawn.” I blinked back in Louis’ reflection, before nodding swiftly and walking out.

   He was right, of course. Damn his gay instinct.

   “Will do,” I sighed, “But Lou, we never talked about- at the ice rink…”

   “There’s nothing to talk about, OK?” he snapped, turning instantly defensive. He reached over, and nearly squeezed out the entire tube of toothpaste onto his toothbrush, clearly having forgotten he’d already done that. “Just leave it alone.”

   “Louis, I will not leave it alone!”

   “Why not?” he demanded with a bit of viciousness, “It’s most honestly none of your bloody business.”

   “It is my bloody business!” I said shortly, “Louis, I know it’s uncomfortable to discuss but-”

   “How would you know?” he hissed, abruptly the tables had been turned on him. “How could you even say you understood _anything?_ ”

   “You know what? You’re right,” I answered, “I’m sorry, I know that I never can understand what you’d be going through.”

   “Exactly,” he said sharply, “So stop trying to.” He turned back around and started scrubbing his teeth aggressively.

   “Lou, I just want what’s best for you,” I sighed, “I’m sorry if I’m being annoying and intrusive. You trusted with me with this, and I promise I haven’t told a soul.”

   “Good,” he grunted, through a mouthful of toothpaste, “Or you’d be breaching the vow on the Toothpaste you made.” I smiled and reached over, wrapping my arms around him. He made a disparaging noise. “God Bec, why can’t it be easier to stay angry at you?”

   “It takes practice,” I mumbled into his back, leaning my head against the back of his neck, “I love you Louis Tomlinson.”

   “I love you too, Bec,” he sighed, just as the door swung open. The swift movement made me start, and step away from Louis, as Harry stood there, with a strange look on his face. It was an odd mixture between being upset, and taken aback. Well, obviously not the best time for him to walk in.

   “Hey,” he said slowly, looking between Lou and I expectantly. “Sorry, I left my shirt in here before.” He reached over, brushing slightly against my arm, before shooting me a look so brief, I could hardly tell if he had or not. He straightened up. “Well, back to where you were.”

   “God, his face was _priceless_!” cried Louis, as the door closed behind him, “Oh my god Bec, let’s pretend we’re going out, it’ll drive him _bonkers!_ ”

   “Lou!” I protested, “Don’t be a dick!”

   “Mm,” sighed Louis, spitting out his toothpaste. He rinsed his mouth then leaned back, with a raised eyebrow. “So you clearly known what you’re doing to him?”

   “W-what am I doing?” I stammered uncertainly. I really had no idea what he was on about.

   “Uh, torturing him? It’s a little obvious, Bec,” he sighed, scrubbing his face on his towel, “He’s incredibly resentful, it’s burning him up, all that consuming jealousy.” I scoffed.

   “Lou, the last thing he is, is jealous,” I replied staunchily. “I’m already seeing Lakyn, and _Haz_ is already seeing Emma. He’s just in a bad mood.”

   “You are in an insane shit load of denial,” he muttered, “Seriously, can you think of another reason why he’d be so pissed about your date, and why he gave us that withering old look when he walked in?”

   “Because he’s Harry,” I answered evenly.

   “Just talk,” Louis groaned, shoving me out the door. Yes Louis wanted us to talk. Maybe later. Zayn was fast asleep on the couch- according to Liam, unlike normal humans, he actually wanted to be around people after his latest lady friend had ditched him.

   Just as I was about to make for the door, I heard Haz behind me. I nearly jumped as his hand touched my elbow. My arm flew and smacked him across the forehead, as though I had coordinated the move perfectly. I gasped and gushed an apology.

   “’s OK,” he said with a soft smile, “Where do you think you’re going?”

   What was he talking about, me looking so good at this hour of the morning? He looked unbelievably attractive with his curls poking out from that beanie, his tired eyes seemed a little less likely to bore themselves into my soul. They were still a soft green. His dimples were showing.

   “Home,” I whispered, glancing over his shoulder at Zayn who seemed undisturbed, still snoring loudly. “’s late, Haz.”

   “Stay over then,” he replied, taking my hand gently. I could Louis’ voice in my head. _Talk to him._ “Bec?”

   “No, I shouldn’t,” I said but he interrupted me,

   “It’s OK, Bec. Come, you can sleep in my room.” Yes, that basically translated to ‘you can sleep in my bed’ in Harry language.

   “No, I mean I _shouldn’t_ ,” I sighed, realising this was probably the best time for that talk. “You know…now the both of us are in relationships, we can’t do…all that stuff we usually do.” His eyebrows furrowed together. Confused. Not a great sign.

   “What stuff?”

   “This!” I whispered sharply, willing him to understand so I didn’t have to go into ridiculous details of what and what wasn’t acceptable. “This…touchy feely-ness between us. I can’t have this on my back, Haz.”

   “Well if I’ve got you on _your_ back we wouldn’t have a problem,” he smirked, moving forward, his hand resting just beneath my ass. I squeaked, and pushed his hand away.

   “Haz!”

   “What? What’s wrong?” he asked with a wickedly sexy grin, leaning closer to me, but I squirmed away uncomfortably. “Really, Bec, are you OK?”

   “I’m fine,” I replied easily, “But- but do you really have to…you know, do all- all that stuff all the time?”

   “What stuff?” he laughed, “This is how we always are.”

   “No,” I said, shaking my head, “No, you see, we’re not. Well, we can’t be. We’re touchy feely, yeah, but not like this.” He frowned.

   “We’ve always been touchy feely ever since-”

   “Yeah, I know,” I cut in, not really wanting to hear the rest of the sentence, “But, Harry, why?” I rarely used his full name anymore.

   “I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Because it’s normal for us, because it’s how we act around each other? I wouldn’t know what else to do with honestly, Bec.”

   “You wouldn’t know what to d- urgh, Haz,” I muttered, shaking my head, “Never mind.” I could tell he really did mind, but I didn’t care.

   “No,” he said, impatiently, “I want to hear this.”

   “OK, look, you touched me, alright!” I snapped, “You just…just grabbed my ass and- don’t you have a _girlfriend_ …” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “You’ve fucked this all up, Haz.”

   I expected him to snap back shortly, but I was surprised by the sound of him laughing. My eyes flew open and I glared angrily at him, but he continued laughing. Zayn was starting to stir, so I saw no other choice but to drag him quickly into his bedroom.

   “So you’ll take me up on that offer?” he grinned. I hushed him, as I tried to find the light switch. His hand stopped mine. “Leave it, this lighting’s sexier.” My eyes narrowed.

   “Sexy lighting isn’t what I’m going for, alright?” I snapped, trying not to get angry at him. “Can we just…take everything seriously for a moment?”

   “If you leave the lights off,” he whispered quietly. My hand dropped and I sat down on his bed.

   “Fine,” I said shortly. “Lights off. But you have to _listen_ , alright Haz?”

   “I’m listening,” he said intently.

   “We can’t do that stuff anymore- all that grabbing each other, and kissing and flirting and touching,” I said quietly. “And I _know_ that all of that is just fun- I _know_ Haz, and I know that it’s just part of us when we’re together, but…now that we’re in actual relationships…maybe we should just- you know, try to keep it clean? Not just for our own sake, but out of respect for Emma and Lakyn.”

   I didn’t know whether interpret his silence as anger, thoughtfulnes or dismay. It was too dark to see his face.

   “Alright.” I let out a massive sigh of relief.

  “Alright?”

   “No need to sound so thankful Bec,” he said with a hint of joking in his voice. “I’m not going to have sex with you while we’re both dating other people.” Well, I’d take that, it was good enough promise for me.

   “Goo-”

   “Unless you wanted me to,” he finished. Unless I wanted him to! It wasn’t about what I wanted, didn’t he get that? I could bloody want him more than anything and not do that. “I’m joking Bec,” he added hastily, obviously choosing to guess my silence correctly as shock and growing reproach. He wrapped me up in a  tight hug. “Are hugs OK?”

   “Hugs are fine,” I laughed quietly, hugging him back. In the dark, I swear, I could feel every line of his body more. I pulled away abruptly. Note to self- reconsider the appropriateness of hugs.

   “So will you please stay?” he begged, “I won’t try anything, I swear. I just miss the two of us. Being friends.”

   “OK, you’ve got me,” I said with a smile. He was already wearing his pyjamas, so he walked over to his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of his sweatpants and a loose white shirt. I would have changed right there- there would be no strangeness. But instead, I picked them up and walked into his bathroom.

   I emerged a few minutes later, bundling up my jeans and shirt, tossing them over his chair. He was already lying, in that awkward position that made me want to crawl into him, which was eventually what I did.

   I snuggled into the warm bed with him. We lay there for a few moments in silence. He turned and his hands rested somewhat harmlessly on my waist, but with a slight tug bringing me tighter against him. My back was pressed now, right against his firm chest. My breaths, along with his, were becoming shorter.

   Um no… _no,_ Harry this was exactly _not_ what I talked about…

   I was sure by now I could feel hardness in his crotch pressed against my lower back, which was either embarrassing, flattering or exasperating. All three, I suppose. I gulped, daring a glance over my shoulder, to find his green eyes alive in the dark. Fixed on mine. His mouth was open slightly, moist, breathing warmth across my skin, which on the contrary made me shiver. Not to mention, I _really_ wanted to reach over and make out with him.

   This how it started last time, didn’t it? Oh, but…I _really_ wanted to, and he was just lying there… No, I couldn’t. I had just told him firmly that we had to keep it clean. Lying there in his arms, our bodies so tight against each other that I could _feel_ him through his lack of clothes. Slowly, I gathered the will power to turn my head back, because he looked likely to snap if I didn’t. I lay sideways, trying not imagine what might be rushing through his head.

   Eventually his arms tightened momentarily with a squeeze, before loosening. I could hear him breathing heavily, with a final huff of relief that nothing had happened. I closed my eyes as he pressed his lips to the top of my neck.

   No matter I was hopelessly throbbing everywhere.

   No matter I wanted him more than I cared to admit, and I ingored the fact that I really should have uncomplicated things by just sleeping with him right there, and forget the rest.

   Being hands-free friends with Harry would be so much harder than I had made it sound.


	15. Moments

_Present Day  
late December, 2012_

 

 

  The rush of Christmas morning was familiar to me.

   I threw the sheets of my bed at seven sharp, bouncing out of my room, scuttling towards the balcony. I threw the curtains open and let out a puff of hot air, fogging against the cold glass. Yes, it was perfect. It was snowing on Christmas. This time it was proper snowing, not light and fluffy like bits of clouds on my birthday, but actual flakes pouring from the bleached sky.

   I slid the door open noisily- it wasn’t my fault it squealed like it hadn’t been oiled in a century- and stepped out, barefoot onto the cold concrete balcony. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering slightly as the cold air attacked my face and legs. Wearing shorts in the middle wasn’t smart. I turned, sliding the door shut behind me.

   Looking down on stirring London, the sun was a bleak golden haze at the horizon, struggling to peak past the clouds.

   I could see the campus caretakers shovelling the snow off the pathways, snow which had already landed in thick layers over night. I breathed again, another warm cloud of vapour gathering infront of my face. The air was sharp today, but in a refreshing sort of way.

   I stood there for a while, just watching; a bad habit I’d have to do something about. I started slightly as someone tapped from the inside of my apartment, and I saw Tian standing there, waving with a big grin on her face. I noticed she was wearing her little pretty pyjamas, and my thoughts were confirmed when James Logan stepped out from behind her, hair messy and looking tired.

   I waved to him too as she stepped away, disappearing from sight, most likely to get breakfast. He stepped towards the door, opened his mouth – for a second I thought he was going to do something foul like lick the glass- but instead he blew fog onto the surface and scrawled in ‘MERRY XMA2’. Obviously he didn’t know how to spell. What a ponce.

   Grinning slightly I wrenched the door open and stepped back inside the warm room.

   “Merry Christmas!” Tian cried immediately, wrapping me in a hug, holding a cup of burning coffee. “I have your present, wait _right_ here!”

   “Ti,” I moaned as she handed her cup to James, which he nearly dropped, and pounced off to her room, “It was my birthday last week! I told you not to get me _anything_!”

   “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” she said, waving me off as she emerged from her room, holding a large box. “It’s just something small.”

   “Oh but I didn’t get you anything,” I said guiltily. What a shit friend I turned out to be. Tian, as her usual self, was far too nice to care.

   “That doesn’t matter!” she laughed, wrapping her arms around James, “I’ve already got the best present.” I think part of me wanted to croon over them, and other part needed to go over to the sink to throw up. Instead, I bid James a Merry Christmas as well, and headed over to the kitchen. I made myself a super thick hot chocolate with five marshmallows, and stole one of Jemima’s homemade chocolate muffins. I didn’t even know where she was, probably staying at Pete’s.

   “So,” I said, snuggling down as much as possible in to the unbelievable uncomfortable couch, “What are you guys planning to do today, hmm?”

   “We thought we might be going iceskating later, then we’re going to Pete’s Christmas bash tonight,” she gushed happily, sitting across from me, her small thin legs curled up, head resting on James’ shoulder.

   “Sounds fun.”

   “What chu doing, then?” asked James, with a slight raised eyebrow, questioning me. “Anything interesting with anyone… interesting?”

   “I’m not spending it with Lakyn if that’s what you mean,” I said mulishly, “I’m gonna hang out with a friend.”

   “Oh, who’s this?”

   “Eh- N…no one you’d know,” I hesitated, starting to play with the hole in the seat. I took a sip from my hot chocolate and looked up to see James smirking.

   “ _What_?”

   “Obviously, she’s spending it with them One Direction boys,” he said, as though immensely happy with himself for coming to that conclusion. I rolled my eyes and continued eating without a word.

   “Oh, you are!” exclaimed Tian.

   “No, I’m not,” I replied, “They’re spending Christmas with their families, they need a break. I’m just spending it with Niall.”

   “Who?”

   “The blond one, babe,” answered Tian, patting his chest.

   “Oh,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows, “Wasn’t he at the bar? With Mr. Stripey?” Oh, Louis would enjoy that.

   “Yeah,” I sighed, “He was there, but he wasn’t picking a fight with you, so leave him alone, eh?”

   “I’m not the one-”

   “Dating my friend? Uh, _yes_ you are.”

   “I wasn’t gonna say that,” he huffed, but obviously derailed by my snipe. I know I had no reason to be angry at him apart from the fact that he was the biggest hypocrite alive. To be honest, I had forgiven a long time ago, but I enjoyed making him think the rage was burning up inside me like an unstoppable inferno.

   “Didn’t you guys date?”

   Tian’s question abruptly ripped me out of my fantasies of torturing James Logan.

   “What? Oh, I…” So far here, I hadn’t met a single person over here who had known about Niall and I’ past. I shrugged and shoved the remaining crumbs of the muffin in my mouth. “For a while. How d’you know?”

   “I remember reading it some newspaper a while back,” she explained, “It was only recently, and you know Nadia in my photography class? Hmm? Oh well, she’s really into them, she keeps all their stuff, keeps track of them. She knows, she’s kept a newspaper article about it, got really excited when I mentioned we were rooming.”

   “It was nothing,” I said dismissively and as stoically as possible. The last thing I wanted to discuss was Niall. Well, no that was a bit mean. Of course I liked talking about Niall. But as in _present_ Niall, not _past_ Niall. Oh, who was I joking? He was the same flipping guy!

   “You sure?” said James, with the beginnings of a sneer, “You like there’s World War Three firing up in that walnut of yours.” I frowned and got up.

   “Don’t be mean,” said Tian, slapping him, but I waved it off.

   “No, it’s fine, I should start getting dressed. Have to go out and pick up my present for him,” I answered, which was true. “Have fun guys.”

 

***

 

   It was evening already.

   I had paid an earlier visit to the gift shop where I had ordered Niall something nice for Christmas. If I was spending Christmas time with him, then I might as well get him a present.

   Twilight was passing, the street lights coming on as I tucked my hands into the pockets of my cropped beige trench coat, puffing out a breath of warm vapour into the cold winter night. I nearly slipped over on the ice and snow a couple of times- it ironically reminded me of iceskating with the boys.

   Suddenly, I spotted a photographer lurking in car. I did a double-take and ducked behind a letterbox, pretending to rummage around in my bag. I had developed some sort of anxious fear of paparazzi after quite a few encounters.

   Nervously, I glanced up to see the photographer, clutching his expensive looking camera, getting out his car. He could be here for any reason, I reminded myself, not _you_. Gosh, people don’t even know you that well. Put that ego to bed, Bec.

   Apparently my ego wasn’t completely wrong, as I poked my head around the letterbox, only to catch a face full of flash. I blinked the spots out of my vision as my eyes slowly bounced back from the light.

   “Bec! Lowthorne!”

   Ew, great way to start my Christmas night.

   “That’s me,” I huffed, ducking my head as I did when I felt subconscious. Well, that fantastic picture of me trying to hide would hit the internet soon. “Sorry, I don’t have time for this.”

   “Where you going?” asked the photographer, obviously interested for a scoop. “Off to see the boys? How are they spending their Christmas? Is it true that you and Harry Styles are seeing each other, despite the rumours that’ve linked him to old friend, Ellis Calcutt?”

   “Harry’s not seeing Ellis,” I replied flatly, turning and facing him. Oh god, I really should just shut my mouth. “He’s not. He’s seeing Emma. Emma Ostilly.” What the _fuck_ was I doing? My jaw snapped closed.

   “Emma Ostilly?” repeated the photographer looking shocked, “The model he hooked up with earlier this year?”

   “That’s right,” I said staunchily, giving up on not talking. Harry would kill me. Like hang me from his dresser and cut my limbs off. “We’re just good friends, and Harry can see whoever he likes.” Well I know _that_ would be taken out of context to make me sound like a resentful little girl with a crush on Harry Styles. Damn it.

   “Can you confirm this?”

   “I’m going now,” I replied, realising what I had done. “Have a Merry Christmas.” I turned, walking as fast as I dared away on the slippery ground. Mantle Apartments was just ahead.

   “Wait!” cried the photographer, in his garbly accent. “What about Niall Horan?” I ignored him, stomping up the steps of the complex. I gave the doorman  a grim smile and bid him a Merry Christmas. He smiled back as usual, letting me inside.

   It was warm inside the lobby. A breath-taking 6 foot tall Christmas tree stood brushing the ceiling in the middle of the room, decorated perfectly with a golden star at the top. I walked past it towards the front desk, glancing over my shoulder to see the photographer still standing outside the glass, his camera clutched in his hands, taking snaps.

   Merry Christmas to you, too.

   “Ms. Lowthorne, merry Christmas,” said Frank, looking happy to see me, “How are you, tonight? Enjoying yourself?”

   “You too,” I replied, glancing at the photographer, “I’m fine. That’s just getting a little annoying.” He shook his head, as he reached for the telephone on his desk.

   “You should have seen the crowd that lined that sidewalk when the boys first moved here and the address got leaked. Truly chaos, I didn’t know how crazy teenage girls could be,” he clucked. I laughed.

   “You don’t even know,” I muttered as he dialed a number. He waited patiently, offering me a candy from a bowl. I took one, unwrapped it and popped it in my mouth, sucking on it contentedly.

   “Well,” he said, putting the phone down, “Mr. Styles and Mr. Tomlinson aren’t in at the moment, so –”

   “Oh no,” I corrected quickly, “I’m so sorry, I forgot to say. I’m going up to Niall’s, not Harry’s and Louis’. Level eight.”

   “Oh?” he said in a surprised tone, redialing a number, “Why’s that?”

   “Niall’s stuck in London by himself for Christmas, so I thought I might pay him a visit,” I shrugged, ignoring the fact I had no one else to spend it with.

   “Hello, Mr. Horan? Yes, I’ve got a guest down here for you,” said Frank, eyeing me, “Should I just send her up? Alright.” He put the phone down and nodded me on. “Good to see you Ms. Lowthorne, have a merry Christmas.”

   “You too, Frank,” I said, waving as I walked towards the lift. It grinded to a stop at level eight. So much for not paying solo visits here anymore. At least this time, reception had alerted him.

   I knocked on the door, breathing as heavily as I dared. I had no reason to be nervous. Why on earth was I nervous? I soothed my coat out – urgh, what was I doing? Trying to fix my _coat_? The door was pulled open mid-thought and my mouth fell open, which I quickly closed, but not before being completely winded.

   “Hi,” said Niall, standing there very much similar to the way I had first found him when I arrived back in London. That is, wearing nothing but a towel. This time however, his blonde hair was slick and wet and his bare chest was spotted in tiny droplets of hot water. I could tell it was hot water, because his skin was literally smoking.

   “Eeehh…hi,” I said, making a strange noise before words could properly formulate in my mouth. I cursed myself for being so stupid. “I mean- hi.”

   “Sorry, I just got out of the shower,” he said, ruffling his hair and sending tiny drops of water flying everywhere. He really shouldn’t touch his hair, it made it much worse to try ignore how good he looked. He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, come in.” He stood aside, motioning me inside.

   I pressed my lips together and brushed past him nervously, my skin just touching his for a second, but it was enough to cause both of us to jump slightly, before I giggled anxiously like a five year old and darted inside before I could make an even bigger fool of myself.

   I looked around his apartment; I had never actually never been in here before unless you counted the first awkward encounter, which I didn’t. I didn’t even step inside because I found out something else apart from the decorations that was screaming his name. Urgh.

   I dumped my bag down on the sofa and threw myself on it, because honestly I was far too tired to care. Niall closed the door behind me and walked over, still ruffling his hair. Pulling off my coat, I rolled over onto my back and looked up at him, as he regarded me with an amused expression.

   “What?”

   “Nothing,” he said, turning away as if that would hide his small smile, “So, I’ve got take away from yesterday in the fridge, food Liam bought last week so most of it willl be gone, and some take away I just got for lunch that I didn’t finish. Help yourself.”

   “’Kay,” I said, turning my head and looking at the small Christmas tree sitting next to the fireplace. “You actually got a tree?”

   “Of course I did,” he said, walking over to it, and plucking a small berry from it and popping it in his mouth with a grin. “Bonus edibility. It’s not Christmas without a Christmas tree, even if I’m not back home.” He walked around the stout coffee table next to the sofa and crouched down beside me.

   “That reminds me,” he added, his face extremely close to mine. He smelled like cinnamon today. I wondered quietly if he had been eating gingerbread men all day. I stiffened and I instantly felt the tension between us escalate. He broke out into a massive grin and dangled a small bunch of holly over my face. “Holly! Merry Christmas, Bec.”

   “Ooh!” I said, grabbing it and sitting up quickly, rolling over the bunch in my hands. “You too, Niall.” He laughed and got back up, going into his room, hopefully to put some actual clothes on. I lifted the holly bunch to my nose and sniffed it lightly, the sweet smell filling my nostrils and making my body relax.

   I took the moment of solarity to take in my surroundings. It was clear, just from his apartment, how much he missed home. There was a small leprechaun, probably given to him from a fan, hanging from the mantlepiece of the fireplace, little hints of Mullingar, Westmeath, Ireland; pictures and photos of his family and friends.

   There was a photograph of him and a woman; I think it must have been his mother. She was beautiful. To think that he’d be wasting his Christmas with me; some girl who maybe just counted as his friend, instead of being back in Mullingar with his loved ones. I wonder why he didn’t insist about returning back to Ireland more.

   Niall emerged from his room, holding his laptop, grabbing the take away box lying on the counter.

   “I’m connecting to Skype now,” he said, setting the laptop down on the coffee table. I curled up cosily next to him, and caught him regarding me with a strange expression.

   “What?”

   “Nothing.”

   “I can move over, if it makes you uncomfortable,” I said quickly, with an embarrassed glance, beginning to shift away from him, but he shook his head.

   “No, it’s OK. Really, come here, have some food,” he replied, handing me the take away box and a spoon. It smelled heavenly.

   “Alright then,” I said, snuggling near him, but not as close as before. How could I _possibly_ be friends with someone like him? I grabbed the box and eagerly spooned a large portion of it into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully on it as I watched him connect to Skype.

   “I’ll call the boys,” he said, the mouse skimming over and selecting the names; LOUI5, harry_styles, Liam.Payne, and zayn-maliks-good. Their Skype accounts started dialing and he leant back, satisfied as he let out a sigh and looked at the takeaway box resting possessively in my hands.

   “Food?” he attempted weakly, but I shook my head, shovelling in another excessively large mouthful. He ran a hand through his hair- a tiny movement which actually drove me around the bend- and gave me a pleading look. I gave in, holding out one spoonful. He chomped on it happily and shot me a grin, just as we heard Louis’ voice say,

   “Well hello, kinky feeding!”

   “Lou!” I exclaimed, setting the box of food aside, while discreetly trying to also set aside my mortification. “Merry Christmas! And happy birthday for yesterday!”

   “Right back at ya, Bec,” he clucked as his face popped up on the screen. He was sitting down somewhere, and I could hear loud chatter in the background. There were Christmas decorations, mixed alongside ‘Happy Birthday’ signs everywhere. Louis adjusted his camera. He smiled, waved, “Hey Nialler, merry Christmas there, buddy!”

   “You too,” said Niall, leaning forward with his elbows on his legs, “How are things over at yours?”

   “So far so good, it seems like my mum got the entire Tomlinson clan over,” he huffed, looking over his shoulder, “It’s pretty crazy out there, to be honest.”

   “Merry Christmas, guys!” cried Liam, who appeared to be curled up on his bed. He waved enthusiastically just as Zayn appeared, crying his usual,

   “Vas happenin! Lou, Nialler, Liam, Becstar! Merry Christmas!”

   “Are you _naked_ Zayn?” Liam demanded, his camera lagging a little, “Put on a shirt, it’s freezing.” Niall and I waved as the others appeared. Even though it was through a slow camera and voice feed, it was so good to hear and see them.

  “No, it’s nice and toasty where I am,” said Zayn with a hint of smugness. “Who are we missing?”

   “...Haz? Of course we are,” Louis cut in.

   “Probably too busy with some gingerbread women,” smirked Zayn, “So anyway, how have your Christmases been?”

   “I was telling Niall and Bec before,” said Louis, “It’s mad here. You know Daisy and Phoebe both had the flu a week ago? Mum was going crazy because she was mixing up a massive batch of eggnog and she reckons it might be infected.”

   “Sounds busy,” added Liam, with a raised eyebrow, “I’m just hanging out with Danielle, you know…chilling. The family’s all good, I haven’t seen them in so long, it’s a relief I have Christmas.”

   “And me!” announced Zayn, “My family’s a small, small wreck, but mum promised me she’d let me go out, so like…”

   “So you won’t be with us for long?” filled in Liam, with a raised eyebrow.

   “I’ll hang around as long as I can manage,” he answered, “Oh, Harry’s online. It’s about _time_ ,Stylie.”

   “Hey guys!” His voice was so familiar, slow, edgy. I missed him so much.

   “Harry!” I cried, resisting the urge to grip the laptop screen and hold it against me, “Merry Christmas, Hazza!” His smiling face appeared, his curls poking out from under his grey beanie, eyes tired but bright as though he had just woken up. That stupid beanie.

   “Merry Christmas, Bec!” he laughed, opening his arms to the screen as though welcoming me in for a hug. “I miss you.”

   “I miss you too.”

   “Yes, yes, that’s all very nice, now,” said Louis sardonically, before he yelled out, “FIZZY, I BLOODY TOLD YOU, NOT OVER THERE!”

   “Merry Christmas guys,” said Haz, leaning back with a smile. “So, what’s up?”

   “We were just describing how Christmas is at ours. How’s it at yours?”

   “Quiet,” he admitted, “Lou sounds like he’s having the time of his life over there.”

   “Oh, trust me I am,” Louis interrupted, as his camera jerked around violently and we lost momentary sight of him, which was only filled by the sound of him swearing. “Fuck it-”

   “Niall? Bec? What about you guys?” asked Zayn, sitting up further and making his camera wobble. “Done anything exciting, fun, interesting?” Why did everything still sound like a sexual innuendo to me? Oh that’s right, because I’m a filthy pervert.

   “No,” said Niall, looking at me with a smile, “Except Bec’s eating all my food. You should have stocked up more last week, Liam, it’s nearly all gone.”

   “I’m _sorry_ ,” he groaned in reply, “I bought half the floor stock at Tesco for you!”

   “Well, apart from that, not really,” finished Niall, turning back to the screen, “We’ll probably just eat and drink, maybe watch some tv, go to bed.”

   “You alright there Bec?” asked Haz, “You seem a little oddly quiet.”

   “No, I’m fine,” I said truthfully, “I’m happy with my food.” I held up the box so they could see, and kept munching. “Presents?”

   “Ah!” exclaimed Zayn, “I got a Harley!”

   “Davidson?” I squeaked in reply, “Wh- no _way_!”

   “It’s gorgeous,” he sighed, ruffling his hand through his hair, “Sitting in the garage right now. I’ll bring it back to London.”

   “You have to let me ride it sometime.”

   “Only if I accompany you,” he replied sternly, “She’s _delicate_.”

   “Oh,” I said huffily, “So it’s a _she_ now, is it? I’m being _replaced_?” I shoved another spoonful in my mouth, leaving the take away box empty. I turned to Niall. “Anymore food?”

   He shook his head.

   “All I got is drink,” he answered, getting up. He opened his pantry and pulled out a bottle of cherry.

   “Oh Bec,” Zayn said, as I reached into my bag and slipped on my glasses, “Don’t flatter yourself. We don’t know you well enough to ride you.”

   “You _didn’t_ just go there,” scoffed Liam, “Please Zayn, in your pants.”

   “I got an Alienware,” commented Louis, “It was three grand, I don’t even understand why I’d need it. However, now I can play Black Ops when we’re moving around.”

   “Why are you guys so rich?” grumbled Harry, “I didn’t get anything from my parents.”

   “None of you have _anything_ to complain about!” I barked sharply. “You’re all rich and famous, you have nothing to say!”

   “Someone get her a drink,” chortled Louis just as Niall sat back down next to me.

  “Done already,” he replied, holding up the bottle, “Only a few, I want to be competent in the morning.”

   “Me too,” I said, but Louis snickered. 

   “Bec, you’re _practically_ an alcoholic,” he said with a grin as his camera tilted again. “Everytime there’s something to drink, you end up rear-ended in something, and smashed the next morning.”

   “I do not,” I shot back, “I just drink it loosen up.”

   “Don’t get her smashed, right, Niall?” asked Liam with mocking harshness.

   “Can’t promise that,” he grinned, pouring a glass. I made a swipe for it, but he beat me to it. We wrestled for it a bit pathetically, but he licked my arm and I sprung away, disgusted.

   “EW!”

   “Ha!” he burst out, downing the drink as I scrubbed my arm desperately. “You’re too easy to beat, Bec.”

   “I’m too _easy_ everything, apparently,” I shot back, before leaning towards the camera. “By the way, that reminds me of something. Haz? Are you in a…a particularly _bad_ mood at the moment?” He regarded me slowly.

   “N- what have you done, Bec?” he demanded sitting up, his curly hair flopping over his face. He didn’t even bother to flick it out of his eyes. “What have you _done_?”

   “Nothing!” I squeaked, “OK, I did something really stupid. Really dumb, you know?”

   “Spit it out.”

   “I was mobbed, alright!” I cried, recoiling. “On my way here, this…this photographer pounced on me.”

   “Oh Bec,” sighed Zayn, rolling his eyes, “Don’t exaggerate. What happened?”

   “He took a hideous photo of me,” I replied, “Then he started launching all these questions at me, and I just panicked and…”

   “ _God_ no,” groaned Louis, burying his face in his hands. Apparently, he had found a quiet spot. “Don’t tell me you stopped and _answered_ them?”

   “What was I supposed to do?” I snapped defensively, “He was taking a dig at me!”

   “What did you tell him?” asked Liam, “Was it anything _bad_?”

   “Nothing that bad,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted and casual, “Just…that Haz wasn’t seeing Ellis, that he was seeing Emma again.”

    “ _WHAT?!_ ” A chorus of static, lagging cameras and angry voices filled Niall’s laptop speakers. I could hear Haz’s voice loud and clear, however.

   “Bec! What were you thinking!” he moaned, “I didn’t… _why_ do you even think people need to know…”

   “I don’t know!” I squeaked, “I’m so sorry Haz, I’m _so_ sorry…he was just coming on so strong, and I just wanted him to leave me alone.” He bristled furiously, red in the face, looking a little panicked himself, which made absolutely no sense.

   “I can’t believe you’d do that,” he started, but Liam interrupted him.

   “It’s fine, Haz,” he reasoned, “Anyway, people would notice eventually. You went out for one date with her and people noticed, so how long did you think you could keep your relationship a secret for? If you think about it, Bec did you a favour.”

   If I could have kissed Liam through the screen, I would. 

   The conflicting emotions passing across Haz’s face were confusing me. He looked like he was trying to work out what to do with himself. His camera jerked as though he’d jumped up or something.

   “I’ve got to call some people,” I heard him mumble. I opened my mouth to tell him to stay, but his connection broke off abruptly. I watched as the harry_styles icon disappear.

   “Forget him, Bec,” sighed Liam, “He’s a little touchy about Emma. He really likes her.” For some reason, I was not really that bothered, which made me a little guilty.

   Instead, I poked Niall in the shoulder. He looked at me.

   “Oi, pour me a glass.”

 

***

 

   The rest of the night passed easily.

   Eventually the other boys left. Zayn was next, then Louis but not before introducing me to his little sisters. They were adorable. At about 11, Liam was the only one left on. I got up to use the toilet, checking myself subconsciously in the mirror. Stupid photographer. Probably got a disgusting picture.

   As I emerged, I saw Liam’s face for a split second before he ended the connection. Niall glanced at me over his shoulder.

   “Liam said bye,” he said, letting me scoot past him and sit down on the couch.

   “I know,” I said, curling up and taking another sip, “You need food.”

   “I do.”

   We talked for such a ridiculously long time, just the two of us, snuggled into the softness of his couch. It was so much better than mine back at campus housing. All we did was sip his drink until two thirds of the bottle was gone, laughing and talking about anything, really.

   Just as the clock struck midnight, marking the end of Christmas day and beginning of the next, he crawled across me, lifting something from the other side of the couch.

   “Happy B-” he hiccoughed, “I mean, merry Christmas.” I giggled, tearing the festive wrapping off the box.

   “What is this?” I demanded, staring at it blankly for a second.

   “A doll,” he grinned tipsily, letting his head lol onto my shoulder. I shook him off good naturedly and opened the box. “Of me.”

   “You’re so full of it!” I laughed, lifting the Niall doll from the box. “Urgh, what a present…”

   “Don’t pretend that’s been on your wishlist since it came out,” he joked and I chortled.

   “Who am I kidding? It’s perfect,” I said, putting it down, “Now I have a functioning voodoo doll.”

   He let out a yelp of protest, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. He was so warm in this chilly weather. Comfy.

   “I knew you’d like it,” he grinned foolishly. I patted his cheek lightly.

   “I’d like anything, right now.”  His eyes flashed and a smile so cheeky, it was almost a smirk, spread across his pale lips. I could almost see a comical cloud of revelation spreading over his head. “Whatever it is!” I spat, trying to scramble away from him, “I don’t want to know it!”

   His arms wrapped around my waist, tugging me towards him.

   “Sit!” he commanded.

   “I’m not your bitch!” I gasped, clinging onto the other end of the couch. It made him laugh, and his grip loosened on me. I grasped the window of opportunity, wriggling and broke free. I misjudged the leap of faith, overshooting the edge of the couch and slipping off the other side, falling heavily on my ass.

   The abruptness of the fall left me breathless.

   “Bec? You alright?” He scrambled over and peered down at me. “Nice drop.”

   “Whatever,” I snorted, struggling to my feet, but unsteadily tipping over and falling back on the couch. “Oof.”

   “You’re knocked off,” giggled Niall. To be completely honest, I wasn’t even that drunk. It was more the early morning which made me this disorientated.

   I didn’t even know what was happening, but before I could say a word, Niall had crawled over and laid on top of me, which really in any other circumstance would nauseatingly awkward. However, at that moment, it was unbelievably hilarious. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

   “What’s that?” he whispered with a seductive smile. Oh god, his face was swimming in my eyes. I looked up, craning my neck. “Isn’t that mistletoe?”

   I swallowed and met his eye again, this time my grip on his neck tightened. My head was spinning, but all I could concentrate on was his scent.

   “I think it’s just holly you stuck to your roof,” I whispered back, smelling the alcohol in my mouth. But it wasn’t as strong; nowhere _near_ as strong as his. I could still walk in a fairly straight line. He on the other hand, was past tipsy.

   “Wanna prove that?” he chuckled, and for the uncountableth time that night, I was drawn to him. Something was different this time, though.

   This time, he was lying between my legs, with my arms wrapped around him. I should have jumped up and sprinted out the door, but in hindsight, if I tried I’d probably run into a wall before I got there.

   “I don’t think so,” I gulped. I just stared at his lips. I couldn’t do this, not _now_. We had made progress, him and I, we had! We’d agreed to be friends, just friends, and tonight I felt like I had spent it with any other friend.

   I tried to imagine any of the other boys in this situation. It all made me cringe, until I came across harmless Haz. My stomach queased.

   “Should we?” he whispered, eyes locked on mine, and I could tell he was unsure himself. Even blasted out of oblivion, he was still holding back. He was _trying_. “You know…just in case?”

   “I-I don’t think…” I said quietly.

   “Bec,” he said, placing a finger to my lips. His perfect Irish accent made me woozy. “Don’t think.” He lowered his mouth to mine, just as I felt our lips brush, and his breath on my skin, I pulled away and pushed him off me.

   “No,” I gasped, shaking my head and sitting up. “We can’t… _no_ -”

   I closed my eyes, trying to take it all in. Then I stumbled to my feet, racing into the first room I saw, and falling onto the bed, willing myself not to weep like a child.

 

***

 

   Undrunk coffee was left to cool on the table.

   I had gotten out of his bed to find it cold and empty. I splashed water on my cold face, but it didn’t make a difference. I emerged slowly from the room to find him sitting at his kitchen counter, wrapped in a thick hoodie, with the hood drawn over his head. Soft sunlight was streaming through the windows.

   “Niall?” I said quietly and he started. I didn’t blame him, my voice was a raspy whisper. I walked over, pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. All that time alone, curled up in his bed, I had finally made a decision. I reached over and took his hand in mine, gently.

   “I’m sorry, Bec.” No gushing or anything. What a god. My brain was still hurting from stringing more than three words a sentence.

   I reached over with my other hand and pushed back his hoodie, to reveal his soft blonde hair, tired blue eyes. He was still so perfect. But so sad.

   “I’ve thought about it,” I said, looking at our hands, “For a long while.”

   “I shouldn’t have come on to you like that,” he mumbled, focussing his gaze on our entwined hands, as if struggling to understand the meaning of them. I thought it was clear. “’m so stupid, Bec.”

   “Nah,” I whispered, squeezing his hand, “Not even close, Nialler.”

   “We made…made an agreement en everything,” he sighed, “But I just can’t…I can’t even control myself around you.” My breath was caught in my throat. I leaned into him, placing my head on his shoulder.

   “I…” Just say it, Bec! Urgh. Stupid cow.

   “Here’s your real present,” he said, taking something out of his pocket; a small box. I opened it gingerly. There it sat, in the middle of the cushion.

   A delicate spyglass.

   Without even having to remember the memories, my stomach lurched. But of _course_ I remembered. Him throwing it away, letting it slip from his hand at the elevator, when he walked away from us. Why was he giving me a new one now?

   “You remember?” he asked. I nodded mutely. “It’s a redemption, in a way. So I don’t owe you anything anymore.”

   “Niall,” I breathed, picking it up. I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me.

   “We need to have this…this talk we’ve been putting off ever since you got here,” he replied, letting go of my hand. I looked at him, startled by how the conversation had turned.

   “Sorry?”

   “About what happened on tour,” he sighed, “To us.” I stared at him blankly.

   “We both know what happened,” I said stiffly, “I made a really bad mistake and paid the price.”

   “I’ve just always wanted to know… _why?_ ” he asked, as I sat up, taking my head off his shoulder.

   “Why what?”

   “Did you do it?”

   “I don’t know,” I whispered, looking at my empty hand, which looked so plain without his in it. “It just…I think it was just in the crazy heat of the moment. I didn’t even realise I liked him like that. I didn’t even know if I did _after_ it, too.”

   “I thought,” he said carefully, “You were happy. With me. At least you seemed like it. Weren’t you?” I bit my lip hesitantly. Of course, the answer should have rolled right off my tongue. “You can be honest with me.”

   “I was,” I said slowly, “I think…it scared me a bit. That I was happy.”

   “So you went and ruined it?” I frowned at him and he backtracked. “I’m sorry.”

   “No,” I said, “You’re right. Maybe I did.”

   “What about when you got back here?”

   “I don’t know, everything was…different,” I mumbled, uncomfortable with discussing it.

   “Harry?”

   I sniffed.

   “He was just there.”

   “Liam told me about what happened after I left.” I was going to kill him! “Don’t look like that, Bec.” I groaned and buried my head in my arms.

   “It would have been excusable if it was just once,” I murmured in my sleeves, “But then I had to go and make it something more.” There was a brief silence.

   “Was it something more?” he asked quietly, before shaking his head. “No, _is_ it something more?”

   “I don’t know,” I whispered, before diving back into the enclosed haven of my arms. Eventually I drew away because I started feeling nauseous. “He’s…he’s my best friend, Niall. Honest.”

   “But you guys are always…” he trailed off, before making a frustrated noise and rubbing his eyes with his wrists. “Can we go?” He looked at him. “Just…out, for breakfast? We can talk more.” He struggled as he slipped off his stool and offered me his hand again.

 

***

 

   I stared blankly at Niall. Sometimes I had to blink twice, just to remind myself that he wasn’t the same guy I had met on tour. He used to be so innocent, and pure, unhurt by the actions that I would eventually inflict on him. Had I changed him, somehow? He wasn’t just taller, firmer, blonder, but he was older now, a little darker, tainted. And he was fiddling with his hair.

   “Niall?” I asked, staring at our hands, wrapped together on the table. It was so familiar. Just us. Chilly mornings spent together, in cafes with coffees and breakfast, with nothing to bother us but weary sleep still lingering in our eyes.

   “Mm?”

   “…I wasn’t even that drunk,” I admitted quietly, finally forcing myself to meet his blue eyes. I swear, I saw for a moment, something looking back at me out of them. Then he was leaning forward towards me, and I inexplicably did the same. Was I…?

   “But you were strong enough,” he shrugged it off, looking away and breaking the moment. “To say no. To walk away.” I stopped a snort. Yeah, and it nearly killed me.

   “The thing I think is holding us back the most,” I said carefully, biting my lip, “We never really ended it you know?” He blinked at me.

   “I thought I made it pretty clear when I walked out,” he said, but I shook my head insistently.

   “I told you what happened, you got pissed and walked out, before we could even discuss it. Even arguing about it would have been better than the both of us leaving each other hanging,” I pointed out, “You never actually said the words _we’re over_ or anything along those lines. At all.”

   “Do you reckon that’s it?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows and he concentrated on his cup of coffee. “The fact I never actually said it?”

   “Maybe,” I shrugged. “I just found I had to fill in all the blanks myself.”

   “You had no blanks to fill in,” he said shortly, looking slightly worked up, “Me on the other hand, it was all guess work. Sometimes I caught Louis texting you, and I wanted to reach over and wrench that phone away from him. I missed you, Bec, but I didn’t want to admit it. If I couldn’t have you, no one could.”

   I stared at him. That may have been the single most romantic thing I had ever heard. Not that it mattered, seeing as who it had come from. He caught me staring and let out an upset sigh.

   “I know, I’m selfish.”

   “No,” I said quickly, “That’s…I didn’t know you thought of it like that. I didn’t know _anything_. And _you_ didn’t know anything either. Which is why we need to make sure, that right now, right here, that we’re most definitely over. Finished. Not loose ends or unanswered questions. Just the truth.”

   “Closure,” he said.

   “Closure,” I echoed, before picking up my cup and draining it in a single gulp. “Something like that.”

   “Then after that?” he prompted. To be honest, I had never seen the conversation going this way. To think that when I had made up my mind this morning, I was ready to…

   “Then we’ll be what we’ve been trying to be all this time,” he said, taking my hand again. “Or stop trying, instead. ‘N just be it. Friends.” Yes, friends. Ho ho. Don’t make me laugh.

   As I gazed into those eyes for the shortest moment I could hold them for, I thought to myself, maybe I could do this. Maybe I could be friends with the boy who broke my heart, only because I broke his. Because after what last night proved, there was no use trying to avoid him.

   Suddenly, he was leaning closer to me. I didn’t know, but something in my mind clicked into place as I leant in as well. His grip on my hand tightened ever so slightly.

   “Kiss me,” he said shortly, stopping right before our lips were a breath apart. I think something inside of me abruptly died. Holy fuck! I had never ever expected those words ever to slip from his mouth, ever again. Much less had I expected them to be directed at me.

   So, without fail, my jaw dropped, and my mind jumbled into its usual unharmonious disorder that always followed when he was near me.

   “What?” I said, not sure if I had heard him right. His hand brushed over mine with his fuzzy glove, making me think that it wasn’t just a coincidence. Was he stroking my hand? A gentle caress of something more than friendship?

   “I said, kiss me,” he replied calmly, “You wanted closure Bec, you wanted to make sure, wasn’t that what you said to me? Then do it.”

   “H- _how_ is that supposed to give me any kind of closure?”

   “If you weren’t lying,” he said, looking down at our hands, entwined on the table. “Then you shouldn’t feel a thing, right?” He looked back in to my eyes. Who was I joking? Despite my attempts to be friends with him, I was still hopeless with those eyes.

   Why on earth was I uncertain about this? He was my friend now, so I should have absolutely _no_ problem with leaning over and kissing him. It would be the same with any of the others- Liam, Zayn, Louis, Harry. I think.

   But then why did I hesitate? Did I really believe there was part of me that wouldn’t be able to control myself around him? It was true, when he was close, I was weaker than I usually was. But I didn’t know whether it was because of him in all his perfect decency, or because of the endless memories which came to mind when he was near.

   “We…we’re in public,” I stammered, searching for an excuse. My eyes darted around to the other patrons sitting outside the café with us, in the warmth of the heating lamps and the windbreaker shade. “People will see.”

   “People will always see,” he said softly, “Come on, Bec. You want closure? Kiss me, look me in the eye and tell you don’t want me.”

   I faltered.

   Tell him that I didn’t want him? There was no ‘tell me you don’t care for me’ or ‘tell me you don’t love me’. It was as though all hope for that end of the emotional scale had been obliterated. It wasn’t even my need for him that would fuel me. It was my _want_.

   “Then, I can know for sure. You were right, that we never talked about it, so we can’t move on. So this is it. I don’t want to play this charade anymore, I’m so tired, Bec,” he sighed, moving back slightly away from me, but I stopped him, getting off my seat, catching his face in my clammy hands, and pressing my lips against his.

   To think of it, the last time I kissed him was when we had still not decided to try be friends yet. Instead, we were huddled around a campfire, laughing for the first time in eight months. Eight months later, after everything that had gone wrong, we could still laugh.

   Now it occurred to me, I had gone in a massive looped circle, with no end. It was just another futile repeat. Under his words, I knew he wanted the confusion just to end between us. He hated complications almost as much as I did. Unfortunately, it seemed all I could do was create them.

   But this time, I promised, this final closure would be _the end_.

   The end of Bec and Niall.

   Niall and Bec. Together. No more. It hadn’t ended back in that hotel when he was stormed out. It hadn’t ended when I slept with Harry again. It didn’t even end when we agreed to be friends. It was ending this moment in time.

   I was only vaguely aware as a million thoughts of reprise, regret and redemption rushed through my head, because I was focussed on not losing control. It was a chaste kiss. Full of smoky warmth from the heat lamps, the lingering smell of post-Christmas mornings and coffee on his lips. I was reaching across the table, clinging on to his face, not pulling, but holding him.

   His warm face was shifting under my fingers. He was moving. Not away, but even closer. He was rising to his own feet so we were both standing over the table, lips locked, and his hand found my waist. And those familiar lips were moving too; he was turning his head slightly to the left. It was almost instinct to turn mine the other way. Almost instinct to let my tongue slide and to sink my teeth into his bottom lip, to hear him groan into me as he always did.

   _Almost_ instinct.

   I jerked away, his hand falling from my side. His eyes caught mine immediately. I thought they would be expectation of my words of confirmation. But my hesitation had been well-intended. He was caught off guard by the kiss; I could tell by the way his mouth lay slightly open, his eyes sparkling, his chest rising and falling, out of breath. I could tell from the way he stood, as though waiting for me to relapse back into him.

   Wewere weakened by the kiss.

   But he told me, what we wanted was closure, right? A final goodbye. No one would think of Bec and Niall. No more us.

    My mouth opened slightly, but not in response to his, which in my mind was almost begging for another kiss. Merely to try formulate the right words in my throat to bring this all to a stop. Why couldn’t I find them? Why didn’t I know what else to say?

   His hand began to move, as if to extend and offer itself towards me, in which there was no point where I’d be able to refuse. I missed his feel, his touch, his breath, his everything too much to turn away.

   “I…” I stammered and his hand froze. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them slowly again. You know the words, Bec. You know them. “I…” My throat was dry now, within a matter of seconds. I swallowed thickly.

   He was watching me; and I could tell he was torn on how to feel. Was he disappointed that I was trying, hoping I couldn’t get those stupid words out? Or was he hoping that I could save us both the trouble and just say them, get it over and done with?

   My arms were swinging slightly by my side. I had clearly overthought this. His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. Look at us. The two of us were obviously not built for this.

   “B-“

   “No,” I blurted, suddenly remembering the words. But saying them would be more difficult than I could ever imagine. “I…” I looked away, then down, before looking back at him. I rubbed my eyes with my wrists. I stared at a spot over his shoulder. “I don’t…don’t want you.”

   “Bec,” he said quietly, “Look at me.” I hesitated, before my eyes finally found his face. His handsome, gentle face, with his beautiful eyes, pale lips, soft, unforgettable  voice.

   “I don’t want you,” I whispered. I had done it.

   I had said it! Relief was rushing through me as though it had been held back by floodgates.

   “Bec.”

   “No, Niall, I-” I said trying to be curt with him.

   “No, Bec,” he laughed gently opening his arms, “Come here. Come on.” I stepped hesitantly towards him, but the warmth that flooded through me at his touch made me immediately relax.

   We left the café, holding hands, as we took an early morning walk around London. Snow was melting, like a new beginning. It really should have been, for us. But already, I had managed to taint it.

   Niall was wrong, he wasn’t the selfish one. I was. I was keeping a small bottle of silent thoughts and miseries to myself, when we promised to be honest.

   Because I had walked into his living room that morning, seeing him crouched over the kitchen counter with late Christmas nights in his eyes, with my mind made up; ready to tell him that I’d take him back, that he was the only thing I wanted.


	16. Vas Happenin Boys?

 

_Present Day  
late January, 2013_

 

 

 

@NiallOfficial

30 mins ago via iPhone

buddie awesome christmas… #cheers @becx.lowthorne

 

@Becx.lowthorne

28 mins ago via Android

@niallofficial np had fun! when th others getting back?

 

@NiallOfficial

26 mins ago via iPhone

sooon soon @becx.lowthorne :)

 

@Zayn_Malik

25 mins ago via iPhone

@becx.lowthorne missed me? ;) #DABOYSAREBACK

 

@Real_Liam_Payne

20 mins ago

@zayn_malik who’s excited mate…

 

@Becx.lowthorne

18 mins ago via Android

@Real_Liam_Payne I reckon n @zayn_malik I missed yo bike more loser, you OWE ME A RIDE.

 

@Zayn_Malik

16 mins ago via iPhone

@becx.lowthorne huff. #zap.

@Real_Liam_Payne

14 mins ago

Tune into MTV UK 8:30 tonight everyon! Special @onedirection release! :) lookin forward

                                                                                          Reweeted by One Direction

@Becx.lowthorne

10 mins ago via Android

@real_liam_payne is the promo today?? #WUT #thegreatescape

 

@Harry_Styles

9 mins ago via iPhone

@becx.lowthorne SHUSH! check your inbox bb.

 

@Harry_Styles has linked you!

AUSSIE EX SPILLS ON HARRY STYLES LOVE LIFE   

   Bec Lowthorne, Niall Horan’s squeeze for two months during One Direction’s Up All Night tour, has recently spilt the beans on Horan’s fellow bandmate, Harry Styles, love life.

   Lowthorne, 17, moved to London, sources claim to be closer to the world famous boy band. She currently is a first year law student at London University, and is frequently spotted on outings with the boys, sparking controversial rumours about her relationships with them.

   However, it seems one fifth of the band is safe from her.

   Lowthorne reportedly told the press,

   “We’re just good friends, and Harry can see whoever he likes. So (Harry’s) seeing Emma Ostilly.”

   The couple have finally confirmed that they are dating again, after briefly hooking up also during the Up All Night tour when they met on the final leg in New Zealand.

   Styles, often known to be very popular with the ladies, has been linked to many women, up to 14 years his senior, as his first controversial relationship with television presenter Caroline Flack. He has been quoted before as liking ‘older women’.

   For now it appears, he seems content with a Victoria’s Secret model, while Bec Lowthorne remains a mere friend.

@Becx.lowthorne

5 mins ago via Android

@Harry_Styles you’re despicable.

                                                                                          Retweeted by Louis_Tomlinson

 

***

 

   “WHERE’S YOUR STRIKER?” I yelled, standing up, much to Tian’s embarrassment. “WHERE IS HE?”

   “Bec!” she hissed, grabbing my arm and tugging be back down. Lucky for her, I wasn’t the only one getting pissed and yelling. At least half the grandstand had risen to their feet, yelling out criticism. I, however, was the first girl to.

   “What?” I demanded, pointing at the field, “Where’s that striker? He can’t even kick the ball!”

   “I know,” gritted Tian, “But calm down, you’re going mad.” I took a deep breath in and watched as more people around us rose to their feet crowing and shouting. I wish I could too, but apparently it was unladylike. I squeezed my scarf tighter around my neck.

   The bell rung, signalling the half time and I pounced to my feet. I was going to down to that field and scream in the striker’s face.

   “Don’t even think about it!” moaned Tian, pulling me back down again and I huffed angrily.

   “They’re terrible.”

   “It’s not A-league football, Bec,” she pointed out ruefully.

   “It’s _soccer_ not football,” I argued.

   “Football!” she shot back, irritated, shaking her head, “James is doing a great job though, right?”

   “Sure,” I grunted, folding my arms over my chest, “If he’s aiming to pass to the opposition.”

   “Oh, it’s fine,” she said dismissively, waving her delicate hand at me. “It’s only the first game of the season, and there are so many undergrads playing, it’s kind of hard _not_ to suck.”

   Her eyes were searching down on the field. She waved enthusiastically to James Logan, who waved back. She was an incredibly big smile on her face, making me think that maybe they were alright together. I still felt a little nauseous around them though.

   The flood lights were the only things lighting the field on this icy January night. Tian had said it before – it was almost cold enough to snow.

   “I could be eating,” I said, shovelling a mouthful of hot chips into my mouth. She looked at me as if to say- _you are_. But I added, “In my heated room. Watching re-runs of New Girl. But no, I had to come to _your_ boyfriend’s first football game, when you know how worked up I get when I watch sports. Emphasis on _your_ boyfriend.”

   “I couldn’t come by myself!” she said, sounding striken and aghast at the suggestion. I rolled my eyes.

   “Don’t you get sick of him?” I asked, shovelling another handful of chips into my mouth. They burnt my tongue a little. We watched as the half time break ended and the players jogged back onto the field.

   “No, he’s too lovely,” she said diplomatically.

   “No bad habits or anything?” I prompted in an interested tone, trying to imagine what bad habits James Logan might have. Too many to count, possibly.

   “Nothing,” she responded lightly. I suppressed a snort. Please. “Oh Bec, you’re such a sceptic. He’s perfect for me.”

   “For you,” I repeated, “But he’s not perfect, is he?”

   “Maybe I don’t want perfect,” she answered, before her eyes widened madly, and she jumped to her feet screaming, “PUT IT IN! KICK IT, JAMES! DO IT, COME ON!” I started, taken aback by her abrupt enthusiasm to the actual logistics of the game, or at least, logical to the point where people actually kicked the ball.

   She let out an earsplitting shriek as James Logan sunk the ball into the top corner of the goal netting. Turning to me, she grabbed my hands and jumped up and down like she’d just been told she’d won the lottery.

   “Yay!” I said weakly, trying not to show the alarm bubbling inside of me. Once the game had finished, not before a couple of collisions and unnecessary mudslides, Tian leaped down the grandstand to envelope her boyfriend into a disgusting mud hug.

   “You were _amazing_!” she gushed, looking awestruck, “That was phenomenal!”

   “Don’t get too cocky,” I advised, slowly following her, before adding as an afterthought, “You were alright, Logan.” He grinned appreciatively, probably realising that this was as close to a compliment as I would ever get.

   “Thanks,” he panted, before looking at Tian, “We’re going to get a victory round at the pub, Steve’s shouting. Wanna come along?”

   “Sure,” she smiled, kissing him grimy cheek. For such a clean girl, she didn’t seem to have any problem with him being all gross and sweaty all over her pretty jumper. Thinking about it however, her pretty jumper probably wasn’t the only thing he was getting gross and sweaty over. Ew. “Bec? You coming?”

   “Hmm? Oh. No, no,” I laughed lightly, shaking my head, “Pub’s not great for me. You two have fun, though.” After getting drunk on Christmas and the results being something just sort of disastrous, I came to a personal decision not to get drunk again until I was actually of age.

   “Alright, see you later,” said James, sweeping her away across the field without another word. He didn’t even bother to change out of that icky soccer shirt.

   For some reason, my recent conversation with Louis for early that day popped into my head. The dumb prick had tracked me down to my part time day job – waitressing at a small café where Lakyn played sometimes.

   By now, the issue of Lakyn had become so trivial to me, I disconcerted myself from it.

   “Hey Bec!” I groaned as I recognised the chirpy Doncaster accent and the bright red jeans.

   “How did you find me?” I demanded, hands on hips. I was too proud to be embarrassed, so I was angry instead. A handy alternative. “Don’t tell me someone told you.”

   “I’d like a sunny-side up with a coffee on the go,” he said jokingly, eyeing me up in down. I blushed. “ _Nice_ outfit. You should wear that to the Syco Halloween Party. I know _several_ people who would like that _very_ much.”

   “What do you want, Lou?” I asked impatiently and he sighed, grumbling rather miserably that I had cut short his attempt to make fun at me.

   “You heard me,” he repeated hopefully. “The egg, Bec. And the coffee, too. We’ve got a meeting in about an hour.”

   “A meeting, big deal, eh?” I said, scribbling the order down on the pad, “Well, I’ll just be off to-”

   “To give the chef your order?” he finished, looking around, “It’s not overly busy. Come back for a chat?”

   “Don’t you have any _real_ friends you’d rather be talking to?”

   “Not anyone here. Not anyone who leaked stuff to the press that Daddy-S was not happy about,” he said, looking at me seriously. I gulped, feeling my throat constrict.

   “When you say Daddy-S, you don’t mean Liam, do you?” I asked quietly. He shook his head.

   “You like you’re about to pass out, Bec,” he said quickly, standing up, but I shooed him back down. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to order your execution or something. In fact, I think he has a proposition.”

   “Ew. No. No propositioning,” I breathed, hurrying off to stick the order up on the shelf. I returned, tucking my pad into the front of my apron. Slowly, I sat down in the seat next to Louis, not knowing what to expect. I glanced up to make sure the manager didn’t come barging through the door to find me mingling with customers.

   “How was Christmas?” My eyes flew to his.

   “Uneventful,” I commented harmlessly, trying not to appear too casual. Did he know?

   “Mm,” he said thoughtfully, and my heart staggered. “Apart from Harry sort of exploding at you.” I almost let out a sigh of relief. So he _didn’t_ know.

   “Oh,” I breathed, “That.”

   “Not to mention, the fact that you leaked that info to the press,” he added as the calling bell rung from the orders counter. He pointed. “Go fetch me my drink.” I pulled a face at him, and got up, thoughts racing through my head. I returned with his drink and egg in a bag and dumped it infront of him.

   “I don’t have time right now,” I said, but he stopped me.

   “This is just really quick, alright?” he asked, glancing over my shoulder. He picked the paper bag up in one hand and leant in, beckoning me to do the same. “Usually most of the people who let slip a few gossip nipples here and there are famous, right?”

   Disturbed by the fact that he’d just used the term ‘gossip nipples’, I nodded, a little preoccupied.

   “So they have agents,” he said carefully. I stared at him. No.

   “Whu-”

   “Simon’s just concerned about you spilling beans on everything about us if we screw this up,” he said, signalling between the two of us. “We know that’s not gonna happen unless you do something crazy, like, oh I dunno, go out with one of us then sleep with another one and piss the other one off?”

   A snipe at Niall, Harry and I. Thanks, Louis. This is why I love you best.

   “So?” I said, shooting a glance over my shoulder again. No manager in view. Safe.

   “He just wants you to consider signing some stuff,” he said vaguely, sighing, “I know Bec, it’s a little insensitive. We all trust you, and that thing you did was rare, but it’s kind of…for our safety. Insurance.”

   “What, like an agreement of silence?” I said, only too familiar with publicity affairs. I was studying law, after all. “Or some speak-and-be-prosecuted sort of shit?”

   “No,” he said defensively, before adding carefully, “Think of it … as protectionism.”

   “Louis, do you even _know_ what protectionism is?” I demanded, as I heard the door swing shut behind me. “Never min- go, go, go…” I shoved him away and turned to face my boss.

   “What was up with him?” he inquired.

   “Nothing,” I lied easily. Lying to some people was much easier than lying to others. “He just wanted to make sure his eggs were done right.”

   “They’re perfect!” yelled Louis from the door and I stifled a laugh.

   “Fine, then back to work,” grunted my boss, pointing at the customers, “They’re waiting.” I turned back around to see Louis tapping through the glass window at me, with a big grin on his face, and a mouthful of egg.

   I walked up to the glass and shouted through it,

   “WHO EVEN ORDERS EGG IN A BAG?”

   Now, it was evening and the day was over, dying somewhere on the horizon. Sitting alone in a grandstand, I was a little lonely, but sometimes, being alone was the best company. I stood and started descending the steps, only to be caught off guard.

   “Happy New Year.” I spun and nearly slipped on the step, but he caught me quickly, with a raised eyebrow. “You right there?” Breathless, I stared in his face. The last time I had seen it, it was red and rather angry, glaring at me through Skype. Internet connection however, still couldn’t do those green eyes any justice.

   “I’m great,” I repied hastily, pushing his arms away. Two weeks, not a word, then this. This boy was full of surprises. “Happy New Year to you too, Haz.” Tidings and wishes about two weeks late.

   “How are you?” he asked, adjusting my scarf as he leant back, “All good?”

   “Great,” I said, “What you doing here?”

   “Dunno,” he shrugged, “I’m bored, so I came down to see a good football match.” He nudged me with his elbow, and a charming smile. I replied with a not so charming snort.

   “Of course you did,” I answered sheepishly. His green eyes were focussed on mine. We hadn’t spoken since the Skype incident, but since then- which had been about two weeks- the Directioner world had gone absolutely crazy over the new Harry-Emma phase. Which I had incidentally started. “Not to rub your success in my face?”

   “Not at all,” he replied sombrely, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Yes, since its release last week, the Great Escape had rocketed to number one in the UK, America and Australia within hours. I should have known. Not to mention, their Youtube channel nearly crashed with the amount of fans camping up for the video.

   “So now the match’s over, what you gonna do?”

   “Maybe just walk,” he said, tearing his gaze away, and looking out on to the field. “Yeah, I think I will. Nice night for a walk.”

   “A little cold,” I pointed out and he smirked.

   “Company helps,” he shot back, but I stood firmly with my hands planted in my pockets, my mouth set in a straight line to stop an uncontrollable smile spreading over it. Damn, that idiot should just go for a walk with his freaking gorgeous girlfriend.

   “It depends,” I answered in a removed tone, “Sometimes company makes it colder.” He blinked at me for a moment, then turned and started to walk down the steps. Once he reached the bottom, he didn’t turn around, but just kept walking away. That douchebag. He knew I couldn’t stay away.

   I traipsed down the slippery steps as fast as I dared, my boots hit the uneven muddy field and I quaked, nearly stumbling over. Once I had regained my balance, I hurried after him; his receding figure into the distance, the curly hair bouncing on his forehead as it always did, his hands tucked into his own blazer pockets.

   I looped my arm through his, staring straight head, not really in the mood for his usual snarky comments and handsome smirky face.

 

***

 

   The bleak morning was poking it’s head through the dusty curtains. I sat up slowly as I dared, rubbing my eyes wearily. I let out a quiet yawn, just as the blankets shifted around me.

   “Morning to you,” grinned Lakyn up at me lazily. I smiled at him, with a hint of remaining euphoria, leaning down and kissing him lightly on the lips.

   “Morning to you too,” I said quietly, and he caught my face in his hand, kissing me again. Urgh, his lips left my light-headed.

   “You look so pretty when you wake up,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine and biting his lip. “Last night was great.”

   I laughed breathily. Yes, it honestly was.

   I kissed him again and climbed out of bed, well aware of his lingering gaze. I grabbed an old shirt, pulling it over my head as he got up too. He strode across my small room and kissed me again, this time deeper.

   “Sorry,” he said a little apologetically, “Can’t stay away from you.”

   “It’s fine,” I said, kissing him back immediately, because I couldn’t get over the feel on him on me. “It’s better than fine. It’s great. Fantastic, all good.” He was smiling, dragging back into the bed. “You got anywhere to be?”

   “Not a single place,” he grinned, tugging at my shirt.

   “Great,” I breathed as his kisses trailed to my collarbone. “Me neither.”

    “Well, by the sounds of it, I’d say you two are going pretty well,” sniggered Tian, which was probably the meanest sounding noise she had ever made, as I emerged an hour later from my room. The sun was well up, and I had skipped my first class, but I was too happy too care.

   “Were you eavesdropping?” I asked, humming as I walked over to the kitchen, fishing out my apple danish I bought yesterday for breakfast this morning.

   “Oh no,” laughed Tian, “It’s just that it’s not easy thing to block out, if you know what I mean.”

   “Like I haven’t endured my share of you and James,” I shot back and she made a face.

   “By the way, you might want to wipe that ridiculous grin off your face before you go to your next class, or everyone’ll know how you spent your morning,” she smirked, just as Lakyn walked out into the living room. Tian nearly dropped the milk carton in her hand, but luckily it was only an inch or two off the countertop.

   He was shirtless, showing off his rough body, his silver dog tag bumping against his chest. Running a hand through his hair, he walked over and kissed me on the cheek. No need to say, he looked delicious.

   “You OK?” he grinned, looking his usual laid back self. His shirt was slung over one shoulder.

   “Fine,” I smiled, letting myself admire him again. What had I done to deserve him? All I could do was shake my head and thank god. Tian was still staring open mouthed at him like he had just walked out of the television set or something. “Ti? This is Lakyn. Lakyn, this is Tian, she’s my room mate.”

   “Room mate?” repeated Lakyn, giving his charming half smile and shaking her limp hand. “So…you, uh-” He trailed off, scratching his head and giving me a sheepish look.

   “What?” replied Tian, instantly snapping to attention, “Sorry? I mean, no. No, thick walls. Haha.” She was blushing. Well, this was painful to watch.

   “You got anywhere to be?” I asked him, taking a sip of coffee.

   “Actually,” he said with a sigh, checking his watch, “I do.”

   “Aw,” I simpered, “Gig or anything?”

   “Talking to some people about maybe trying to fudge a deal with a record label,” he explained, unfolding his shirt and throwing it over his head.

   “Hope it goes well,” I answered, kissing him goodbye. “See you later.”

   “See you soon babe,” he whispered into my ear, his lips grazing my cheek. His picked up his bag and he strode out the door, humming to himself contentedly.

   There was a brief silence.

   “Wow,” said Tian, looking at me with a mixture of adoration and reproach, “Just…how did you- wow.” I shook my head.

   “You reconsidering James Logan?” I sniped, slipping in a chair and grabbing my apple danish.

   “Not at all,” she said genuinely, “But how did you even get a catch like that? He’s just…urgh.”

   “Tell me about it,” I groaned. Good god, having Lakyn Heperi float into my life was a blessing. “Not to mention, amazing in bed.”

   “Well, he’d have to be,” she pointed out evenly, “You woke up happy, for once, instead of all that crabby shit you usually pull. Not to forget how happy you made _him_. He walked out that door humming, Bec.”

   “Oh please,” I said, rolling my eyes, “Don’t even go there.”

   “On your sexual prowess?” she asked, poking her tongue out and winking, “Don’t worry, hun, I’ll leave you be, you’re already squirming at the idea of it.” Huffing at the thoughts of me being squirmish around sex, I got up, munching on my sweet danish, as the taste of apple sauce flooded my mouth.

   “By the way, someone came around ealier,” she said and I froze, halfway back to my bedroom. I turned slowly on my heels.

   “Sorry?”

   “Someone dropped by for you before,” she said casually, taking a sip from her coffee, “He wanted to see you, but I told him that you were sleeping. Or busy. Both, I think.”

   “Who was it?”

   “Your Irish friend,” she replied lightly and I closed my eyes slowly as possible. Really, what worse timing could he have? When I opened my eyes, she was regarding me curiously. “Everything alright, there?”

   “Great,” I muttered through gritted teeth, turning and waltzing back into my room with my breakfast. Niall. Just bloody perfect. Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours until the meeting? But no…

   I dumped it on my table, grabbing the first pair of jeans and shirt I saw, pulling it clumsily on. I snatched my breakfast off my table, dropping a few unnoticable crumbs along the way, and walked back out, stuffing a few various items into my shoulder bag.

   “That was fast,” said Tian, sounding surprised, “Where you going on a lovely Saturday morning like this?”

   “Business,” I commented harmlessly, “Are these jeans too tight?”

   “You got nice legs, it’s fine. A job interview?” she guessed. I shrugged.

   “Of a sort.”

   “Well, you better get a move on sweety,” she sighed, glancing out the window, “It looks like the snow’s gonna start again soon.” I bid her goodbye, checking my watch one final time before dialling a number onto my phone. I held it to my ear, as I walked down the stairs, only to collide sharply into someone. Lakyn.

   “Hi,” I said surprised, as he looked back at me in surprise. “What you going back here?”

   “I forgot something,” he said, with a slight blush, “My pick. I think I dropped it in your bag.”

   “Oh, this bag?” I asked, rummaging through my stuff. To my surprise, I pulled out a small black guitar pick. “Oh. Here.”

   “Thanks,” he grinned, “I’d be a little lost without it.” He took my hande gently in his and we descended the stairs together. The walk to the campus gate was a good five minutes, mostly just us talking happily.

   “So where you going?” he asked, “You look hot.” I blushed. Oh typical Australian bluntness. Sometimes, I missed it dearly.

  “I’m going to do business stuff,” I explained, “I have to sign privacy stuff, all that.”

   “Oh, going of law student on me?” he teased, bumping me with his hip as the gate drew up infront of us. “Where to?”

   “Oh some big business building,” I said vaguely and he chuckled.

   “You really don’t want me to know where you’re going, do you?” he asked, looking at me through his eyelashes in his usual seductive stare. My breath hitched and I smiled.

   “No!” I protested with a light laugh, “That’s honestly all I know.”

   “Then how the hell do you plan to get there?” he demanded as we stopped just outside the gates, at the main street; the cars zooming past us on this typical London morning.

   “Oh, someone’s picking me up,” I answered dismissively, looking around.

   “And do you _know_ who that someone is?” he asked incredulously, and I laughed, pressing my lips against his to silence him. He turned his head instantly, and I felt the pressure of his rough lips on mine, his hand fastening around my waist, and mine clutching the back of his neck. Urgh. I could do this _all_ day, no joke.

   The beep of the horn alerted me, and I tore away from him, only to notice the dark blue Alfa Romeo waiting, with the window rolled down.

   “OI! BEC!” I smiled despite myself, seeing as I really should be more pissed at him more than anything.

   “Hey Louis!” I called, waving my hand as he leant out the window and slapped the side of his gorgeous car, which he had nearly wrecked up several times.

   “Time to goooo!” he crowed, before lowering his sunglasses and peering as Lakyn and I, who were obviously entwined in each other. “Oh, hey there, you must be Latex!”

   “Oh jeez,” I muttered as Lakyn’s eyebrows furrowed. I turned to him, patting his chest. “I’m so sorry about Lou, he just can’t or _won’t_ get your name right. Never mind.”

   “You’re going out with him?” he said, looking confused.

   “Yeah, their band business stuff,” I said shortly, before stopping, “Wait, you don’t _mind_ do you?”

   “No, of course not,” he said snappishly, “You could have just said.”

   “I was going to,” I said, a little taken aback, “But I kissed you instead.” He sighed and kissed me on the cheek.

   “Have fun,” he said, starting to walk away, “Call me later?”

   “I will,” I said, extending my arm until he was too far away. I hurried across to Louis’ car. I opened the door and climbed in to the front seat with him.

   “That took a while,” he huffed impatiently, “What’s with the emotional goodbye? Do you do that everytime?”

   “Don’t be so mean,” I shot back, strapping myself in, “He wasn’t too happy to see you, either.”

   “Oh, is _that_ right?” snapped Louis, slamming on the accelerator harder than necessary and braking excessively when another car passed, narrowly missing him. “Shit! Asshole!”

   “Louis, just calm down!” I yelped, my fingers clinging onto the leather seats, “I wanna get to the management building preferably _alive_.”

   “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, pulling out when there was a break in traffic, “So what’s this about him not being happy to see me?”

   “Lou, don’t even _try_ take it personally,” I retorted, folding my arms over my chest, “He just…”

   “How can I not take it personally?” he demanded, “That little cock. He even looks like a douchebag.”

   “Fuck you!” I cried, punching him in shoulder, “You better do something about that attitude, Tomlinson.” He smirked as he made a turn.

   “You better do that something about that _hickey_ on your neck, Lowthorne,” he snickered and I let out a desperate moan, pulling down the retractible mirror and clawing at my neck. I found nothing. I pushed the mirror back up as Louis guffawed happily next to me.

   “Dick.”

   “Oh come on, I knew that happy glow you have wasn’t because of the weather,” he grinned, and I groaned, looking out the window.

   “It’s not _that_ obvious, is it?”

   “Someone should piss you off before you go in.”

   “You’re doing a pretty great job of that,” I snapped and he laughed at my expense. He looped his arm around my neck affectionately, but I shrieked and threw it off. “Concentrate on your driving, idiot!”

   “You’re just like Eleanor,” he complained, “Eyes on the road, blah blah blah…”

   “Well it’s a miracle you haven’t scratched this one yet,” I commented but he blushed awkwardly. “Oh _Louis_ …”

   “It was some crazy guy, I swear!” he said defensively, “You don’t drive, you wouldn’t understand that half of London drives either like it’s a V8 track or like we live in a school zone.”

   “Is it a scratch? Or a dent?”

   “Some guy clipped me when I was pulling out the other day,” he huffed, “It’s a run from the back door to the bumper.”

   “Wha- that’s massive!” I said in shock, “You’ve had this one for about a month!”

   “No driving lectures from you,” he said, slapping his hand over my mouth. I spat it off. We sat in silence for a few more moments, until we pulled up at a traffic light.

   “By the way,” I added casually, “Did you know about Niall paying me a visit this morning?”

   “What?” he said, “Oh, yeah. He said he had something to tell you. Harry got all nosy into it, as per usual.”

   “What, has he been nosy recently?” Louis gave me a look.

   “Around you, yes,” he said, “What did Niall want?”

   “I-I don’t know,” I stammered, looking down again, “I missed him.”

   “I forgot to ask about Christmas over the phone,” he continued, shifting the car into gera, “What did you guys do after skyping us?”

   “Nothing,” I said, having effectively practiced infront of the mirror to lie through my teeth, “Had a few drinks. Swapped presents. Off to bed.”

   “Sounds boring.”

   “…awfully,” I finished. Well, I couldn’t say it was uneventful. But the result was satisfying; the closure of him and I. Now we could be friends. That was all my Niall issues more or less resolved, though I’d have to ask him in private later why he came around. Harry on the other hand…

   “You’re thinking about Haz, aren’t you?” asked Louis, with a smirk and I started abruptly.

   “What?”

   “You have that funny expression you pull when you think about him,” he said, patting the wheel, “It’s sort of strained.”

   “Oh no,” I said, “I just saw him the other day, that’s all.”

   “Really?”

   “Yeah, just after a football match on campus,” I replied, surprised that Louis didn’t know. Those two were almost always joined at the hip. “We went for a walk, just talked a bit.”

   “Bout what?”

   “Life. The Great Escape. Christmas. Lakyn. Emma,” I said, as if ticking off a mental list in my heda.

   “How did he seem to you?” asked Louis, almost cautiously. I stared at him curiously.

   “Fine,” I answered carefully, “He seems relatively happy, actually.”

   “Mmm,” said Louis, staring off into the distance and passing a red light. “I think he’s getting a little worked up over all the media.”

   “What?” I demanded, “But he’s so used to it.”

   “He’s never really like the press prying into his private life,” he shrugged, “You saw how he exploded at the Ellis thing.”

   “Yeah, but he was practically bursting to brag to them about his relationship with Emma,” I answered, sounding a little more aggressive than I intended. “I mean…uh, he’s…he’s Harry. Not really explainable.”

   Louis chuckled.

   “Well, you’ve got that right,” he mumbled as he turned into an underground carpark. At once, I felt myself tense as the car rolled inside, and stopped at the big security gates. Louis leaned out the window and pressed the intercom, waiting to be let in.

   Eventually, the giant metal grates slid open and he swung carelessly into the lot, sliding into the first empty space he saw, while nearly ramming a column.

   We clambered out, me much faster. I wiped my brow and let out a deep breath.

   “You like you’re going to be sick,” said Louis, locking the car doors and walking around to me. “You alright? The meeting will be over and done with in no time, don’t you worry.”

   “It’s not the meeting,” I said, though that probably contributed to it, “It’s…I can’t stand- underground carparks. Claustrophobia.”

   “Well, then we shouldn’t keep that waiting, should we?” prompted Louis, taking my hand and managing to drag me to the elevator. We took it up, and I instantly recognised the Syco label on the doors. Well, this must be pretty big. Once I was out of the carpark, the real worrying about meeting their managers hit me.

   Who was I, just some irksome girl that the boys took a liking to?

   I didn’t have much time to explore the thought, which to be honest, didn’t require much exploring. That was all I was. But almost immediately, the doors reopened to an office looking space; with carpets, conference rooms, individual offices and a lobby. Louis was still holding my hand encouragingly, swinging it back and forth as he escorted me towards the desk.

   The secretary looked up, obviously recognising him.

   “Mr. Tomlinson!” she exclaimed brightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “How are you?”

   “Great thanks, Patricia,” he answered with a smile, “Which way to the meeting?”

   “Just down the hall on the left,” she said, pointing, “He’s waiting, the others have arrived already.” She flashed him what must have been her most charming smile. My eyes narrowed. I almost wanted to say to her _back off, he’s Eleanor’s_ , but if I did, then wouldn’t that be untactful? I should say _back off, he’s gay_ instead.

   “Thanks, bye,” said Louis, tugging me along with him.

   “Well,” I said haughtily, “Someone fancies you.”

   “What? Oh, Patricia?” he said dismissively, not bothering to check if she was out of earshot, “She’s harmless as a fly. Come on, people are waiting to meet you.” We arrived infront of a tall tainted glass door and Louis reached forward, sliding it open slowly.

   “Hello?” I said, poking my head in.

   The four other boys were already sitting around a large table, looking over their shoulders at me.

   “Bec!” they said in hushed voices, grinning. Zayn, Liam, Niall and Harry. I missed them. In fact, Niall, Liam and Zayn I hadn’t seen in about a month.

   “Come in,” prompted the man who sat at the head of the table, who was worth no introduction. Simon Cowell. I felt my throat constrict heavily. Louis guided me in slowly and we took a seat. I could feel all eyes on me, and I felt like I was being bombarded, even though a single word had hardly been spoken.

   I gulped, and allowed myself to take in the room. Expansive, with a perfect view of London. Siting in the lone corner, was Paul Higgins, who I instantly recognised even though I had never met him, and one terrifying man sitting at the head of the table.

   “You must be Rebecca Lowthorne,” he said, and I flinched at the use of my full name.

   “It’s- it’s just Bec,” I stammered over my words. Louis was still holding my hand for moral support under the table. Well, I needed him. If I didn’t have him to cling to, I think I’d be crumbling at a much higher rate.

   “Simon Cowell,” he said, extending his hand towards me. I raised my limp one and shook his. It was coarse and hot, his grip firm and suffocating. “As you’d know, I’m running the boy’s recording deal with Syco.”

   I nodded slowly.

   “Ms. Lowthorne, this is Paul Higgins, their manager,” he drawled, pointing to Paul in the corner, who merely raised his hand in acknowledgement. I shot him a grim smile, only because he seemed sufficiently less intimidating. “So, do you know why you’re here?”

   A question? _Really_? I could hardly formulate my own name, how was I supposed to answer that?

   “I-” I tried, my mouth running dry, “Well…Louis mentioned something to do with uh- um, privacy.” Deep breath.

   “Mm,” he said sounding bored. “Yes, well, you know how important it is to keep the boys image as reputable as possible.” I nodded, seeing as it was the only movement I seemed to be able to have functioning control over. “We just truly want insurance that you won’t be disclosing any further unwanted information to the press.” I wouldn’t have replied, unless Louis hadn’t prodded me with his foot under the table.

   “I- yes,” I blurted quickly, “That was my honest mistake.”

   “A mistake which cost Mr. Style’s his privacy and choice to withhold personal information from the public.”

   “I-I know,” I squeaked, flitting my eyes to Harry, “I’m so sorry again, Haz.” He shrugged. “I’m just not really…u-used to all of it, you know?”

   “How long have you known the boys?”

   “A-about ten months? Nearly a year.”

   “How long have you been publicly connected to them?” I had no idea why he was asking these questions.

   “I don’t know,” I replied truthfully, “Maybe since, I dunno, since the press bombardment outside the Hardy in Sydney. That was last April, I think.”

   “So just over nine months?” Gnashing teeth anxiously.

   “Yeah, I think.”

   “It’s about time, then,” he said, “I think you should be more informed about this business. You are, after all, an inevitable part of the boys lives.” Well way to put it, Mr. Melodramatic.

   “So, what am I supposed to-?”

   “Of course,” Simon said curtly, shuffling some papers “Out of the interest for the band, I would like to propose you signing an agreement that ties you in direct connection with them and acknowledging their right to privacy.” He slid over a piece of paper, with tiny print and big words.

   It was something about me not leaking information, even if a fallout with the band did occur. The only information I would be giving to the press would be under strict control, unless I was to become romantically affiliated with one of them, in which the contract could be breached to allow for personal liberties.

   Well, not much chance of that.

   I picked up the pen lying on the desk and scrawled my signature on the dotted line.

   “Well,” said Simon, snatching the piece of paper back and standing up, “That’s all over and done with. I have things to do, so all you can leave. Except you, Harry. I need to talk to you.” Harry, who had already jumped up excitedly to leave, grumbled something.

   I gave him a nervous grin as I left, but he merely returned a sour look.

   “What’s with him?” I asked Louis as soon as we were outside, “He doesn’t seem in a great mood.”

   “I told you, he hasn’t been in a great mood since just before Christmas.”

   “I’ve apologised a million times,” I started, but Zayn emerged from the conference room with the other two, and let out a girlish shriek, enveloping me in a hug before I could finish.

   “I missed you! And _you_ missed my _birthday!_ ” he crooned.

   “I’m sorry Z, I sent you your present in the mail, did you get it?”

   “Yeah, I love it. God, a month is too long. So much for three days.”

   “Your fault for having the Great Escape premiere the week after that,” I replied evenly, hugging Niall this time. I hugged him especially tight, and I noticed that he still smelt like holly. I wondered if that stuff lined his apartment now.

   “You,” I said quietly, pulling away from the hug eventually.  “You visited?” He ruffled his hair and gave me a sheepish grin, but before he could elaborate, Liam’s arms swept me up in a surprising hug.

   “Woah!”

   “Put me down!” I gasped for air, clutching my stomach, “Jeez, Liam, I think I preferred your cold-shouldering greetings before.”

   “Danielle’s great,” he said, eyes sparkling, with disregard to my previous comment, “We talked over Christmas, Bec, it was fantastic.”

   “Aww,” I said, massaging my sides, trying not to wince, “That’s amazing, Liam. Everything’s back on track?”

   “It’s perfect,” he said happily, with an adorable smile. “How have you been?”

   “Fine,” I replied, but Louis cut in,

   “She had morning sex.”

   “Louis!” I snapped, turning and hitting him reflexively across his arm, while the others laughed. “You’re so fucking…don’t even, urgh!”

   “You saw her boyfriend?” asked Zayn, “How was he? As gorgeous as she described him?”

   “Not my type,” joked Louis, “Looked like a douchebag.”

   “ _You_ look like a douchebag,” I shot back, “With all the stupid hair and bright red jeans and everything. I’m not hanging around to listen to you pick on Lakyn. So you- come here.” I tugged Niall off to the side, while the other three stood there in the middle of the hallway conversing.

   We went into the room across the narrow hallway and I closed the door behind me. It was a small room, with just a few tables and display board. I hopped up onto the desk and he joined me.

   “I missed you at New Year, Bec,” he said, looping an arm around my waist affectionately. For some reason, the gesture made my heart leap in my chest.

   “Yeah,” I said, “You got to go back to Ireland, didn’t you?”

    He nodded.

   “I went to see the works, but that was it,” he said, his ends of his mouth curled in a slight smile. “What about you?”

   “Went to a party with a few friends,” I replied. “Not much. I missed all you guys. Not to mention, Zayn’s birthday. I feel bad.”

   “Don’t,” smirked Niall, “You didn’t miss out of much.” Before I could analyse why I he looked so amused, he took my hand in his and my thoughts immediately resumed to what they were before the entire thought of our New Year arrangements.

   “Why did you drop by this morning?” His mouth straightened in a firm set line, his blue eyes seemed a little dazy.

   “I wanted to tell you something,” he said in a controlled voice, “But you were a little…distracted, I see.”

   “You’re not angry or anything are you?”

   “What?” he laughed, and I realised how stupid I sounded. “Of course not. What you do with your boyfriend is none of my business.” Just friends. Friends. Niall and I are just friends.

   “Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled, swinging my legs distractedly, “So what did you want to tell me?”

   “I- I’m seeing someone,” he said slowly, avoiding my gaze. “She’s real nice and everything, she’s from back home.”

   “Back home?”

   “Mullingar.”

   “Oh.” A pause. “Why do I need to know this, Niall? I don’t want you to single me out,” I said, becoming a little frustrated, “We’re not more than friends like we agreed right, we’re just that? You could have just told me infront of the guys.”

   “The guys don’t know,” he murmured, “I just thought I could confide in you, I don’t just want to be your friend Bec- I want to be your best friend. I- I just thought I could tell you. Sorry.”

   Great, now I felt like a complete and total bitch.

   “I’m sorry,” I groaned, wrapping my arms around him, seeking out that comfort I always found in his arms. “You’re right. Of course. I promise, from now on you can tell me anything.”

   “Anything?”

   “Anything,” I confirmed with a nod. His hand rubbed my back assuringly, and I ignored how right it felt to be there. “I know it’s hard, but we’ll work all these things out eventually.”

   “I know,” he said, smiling as we hopped off the desk and walked back over to the door. “You always work it out eventually.” I didn’t know if that was sarcastic, or Niall just trying to be nice. He _knew_ perfectly well I was shitty at working things out.

   “By the way, you remember the song?” he added almost an afterthought. I slid the door open and we stepped out into the hallway where the others were waiting. “I think I’ve found a name for it.”

   “Which song?”

   “The one we sang for you around the campfire,” he answered, and it struck me that I was so stupid for forgetting such a memorable song.

   “Of course,” I blinked. “What’s it gonna be called?”

   “Bec,” interrupted Louis, waving me over.

   “I’ll tell you later,” whispered Niall with a secretive grin and let go off my hand. I walked over just as Harry emerged from Simon’s office. He gave me his newly adapted grudging smile, which seemed like all he could offer me these days. I really had no idea what was up with him. All had changed since Christmas. Since we had started seeing other people.

   “Hey,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me. His curls tickled my face. I missed him. He let go and stepped back. “How you doing?”

   “Great,” I breathed, “Happy that’s all over and done with, though. Simon Cowell is a scary guy.”

   “No joke,” he chuckled, before stopping abruptly as though he had just remembered he wasn’t supposed to be amused by me or something. Thank god for Louis, who stepped in and saved me.

   “Stop cock-blocking,” he said to Harry who rolled his eyes. Louis wove his arm through mine and grinned at me happily. “You free for the rest of the day? We haven’t hung out in ages.”

   “We?” I repeated, looking at the others, “As in just you and I, or the boys too?”

   “The boys as well,” tutted Louis, shaking his head, “God Bec, you could try to be more subtle while you’re attempting to seduce me.”

   Obviously he hadn’t forgotten how amusing he had found it about Harry’s reaction to him walking in on the both of us hugging in his bathroom. Worse, I had just said ‘I love you’ to Louis and he to me, which out of context, would be easy to assume the worst. And even more obviously, he seemed to be right about it, because Harry looked disgruntled.

   “Wouldn’t want to upset Eleanor, would we?” I shot back innocently enough, leaning over and adjusting Louis’ hair. He flinched slightly. “But yeah, I’m free.”

   “Great, let’s go and pick out stuff for Harry’s party.”

   “Oh?” I said, glancing at Harry as we headed back down the corridor towards the elevator exit. “Haz’s party?”

   “You’re invited,” Haz said, “I still have to finalise the invite list, but you’re there. So is Emma. And you can bring along a plus one.” What was with all his subtle hints at this thing he was obviously dodging around?

   “Hmm?”

   “Oh Bec, you can bring Lactose!” cried Louis, tugging on my arm, not realising that bringing and even mentioning Lakyn around Haz was a very, very bad idea. “You’ll _love_ him, Haz, he acts and looks just like you! A douchebag!”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry...this chapter sucks shit.  
> however, i made it longer and quite a lot of happens, so try put up with me!  
> enjoy xx


	17. Save You Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy :)  
> more drama coming a la next chapter!  
> much love xx

“Where’s the birthday boy?” I sang happily as I strolled into the club, which in daytime, was a lot less intimidating than it was at night. There were a few men walking around, mostly reorganising the stage things. I set my leather satchel down on one of the tables and looked around, stretching my arms tiredly.

“BEC! There you are, I was wondering when you’d drop by,” said Liam, walking over and embracing me. He had obviously been helping to direct the people where to go. He was such a good friend. “Another two weeks without seeing you, bejeez the boys are absolutely going mad…” I laughed and shook my head.

“You guys are too busy recording that new number one album,” I shot back with a smile, “And me? Well, I’m too busy trying to earn my way to becoming a petty lawyer.”

“Bec!” I heard Niall’s voice as he poked his head around from a side room, “Hey! I thought I heard that voice.”

“Hi Nialler,”I said, waving. He set down what looked like a giant box of heavy decorations, and walked over, scooping me up in a hug as well, though his was quite different to Liam’s. “How are you?”

“Great,” he replied, ruffling his hair casually with his hand. “Tired as shit, but great. Why haven’t you visited?” he added demandingly, “You haven’t hung around with us ever since the Syco signing.”

“I’m a very busy girl, my schedule’s extremely tight. No time for boy bands,” I answered sarcastically, rolling my eyes, “And no use trying to sneak up on me Louis, I can hear those jeans.”

“Becstar!” he growled in my ear, pouncing on me from behind.

“Oh Lou,” I mumbled, shaking him off, “You’re so predictable.”

“ _Un_ predictable, you mean,” he corrected, poking the tip of my nose, which he far well knew made me scrunch it up. “Haha!”

“Mature,” I said, sticking my tongue out, “Where’s Haz? I dropped by to wish him happy birthday.”

“Couldn’t you wait till tonight?” smirked Zayn, nudging me with his hip as he walked up from behind me, clutching what looked like a box of a lot of different alcohols.

“Hey Zayn,” I grinned up at him, “How are ya? Heard you and Pez got back together again. I’m not gonna say I saw that one coming.”

“Pez,” he breathed, closing his eyes and letting out a slow deep sigh. He shook his head at me. “That’s really weird. Don’t call her that. It’s _Perrie_. It’s not like she’s _Harry_ who you can call _Haz_.” He dumped the box on the same table where I had set my leather satchel down on. The glass clinked together harmoniously.

“’s alright,” I replied, “You two are adorable together. I approve.”

“Oh wow,” he sighed, “I’m touched Bec. Obviously your approval is all I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

“Don’t be so condescending,” I responded, just as I saw Harry emerge from the back room.

He was looking down, so he obviously hadn’t seen me yet, his green eyes thoughtful, one of his hands fondling his curly hair. It made me laugh. He glanced up in surprise and noticed me. What looked like a small smile spread on his lips.

“Bec,” he said, sounding relieved, crossing the empty club. Unlike the others, he stopped about a foot away from me and just stood there. No hug. “Hi. What you doing here?”

“Oh nothing,” I said, trying to dismiss the feeling that he didn’t want to be close to me, “Just dropping by to say happy birthday. 19 already, would you believe it?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug, “I’m getting old.”

“I swear, you say the word _old_ one more time, I will have to punch you,” threatened Louis. “You have nothing to worry about, all them mothers are still after your young blood.”

Haz grimaced at him.

“And…I just wanted to give you this,” I said, handing a small wrapped box, “A birthday present. Don’t worry, you’ll get another one tonight, this one’s just something small.”

“I’ll open it later,” he said, staring at it as if having no idea what to do with it. “Thanks, Bec.” Why the hell was he acting so cold and distant to me? I wanted to march up to him, grab his shoulders and attempt to shake some sense back into the old Harry I remembered.

But maybe, just maybe he was put off by…

“I’m also bringing a plus one tonight,” I blurted, grabbing my satchel and throwing it over my shoulder, nearly whacking Niall in the face with it as it swung violently. “Just to let you know.”

“Oh yeah?” said Haz, with a raised eyebrow. “Who’s it?”

“My boyfriend,” I shot back, watching his face closely. His expression was closed off. “I invited him along tonight, that’s fine right?” Haz opened his mouth, but knowing something stupid or pissy would come out of it, I interrupted with, “Then you can all meet him. As in _proper_ Louis, stop making that face.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t _met_ him!”

“He’s a tool, Bec,” Louis sighed, “Yes, I reckon he’s probably fantastic in bed, but what’s he got up in here?” He tapped his head and gave me a knowing smile. I blushed fiercely, spared an embarrassed glance to Harry, who had spontaneously blanched.

“Look, I’ve gotta go,” I said, heading towards the door, while Liam called to Louis,

“Nice job of making things awkward!”

“I’ll see you guys tonight,” I squeaked, running out the door, waving over my shoulder. I caught sight of Harry’s confused face. Well well, it seemed all those complications I thought were solved were only shoved under someone’s carpet.

***

“Small party my ass,” mumbled Lakyn, the grip of him on my waist tightening. I shook him off slightly.

“Relax,” I advised, “It’s nothing compared to some of the stuff they do.” I handed my invite to the doorman who let us in to the club. It was pounding with music, dark lights and the luminous bar. It almost reminded exactly of the first bar I had ever gone to; the one with the boys back in Sydney.

Memorable night. Rebecca Ferguson ended up sexy dancing and throwing up in the limo, I didn’t manage to coax a beer out of Niall, and I ended up sleeping with Harry. Huh. Well fat chance of that tonight.

It was so dark I could hardly recognise or see for that matter, any familiar faces. Luckily, I was met almost immediately.

“BEC!” yelled Zayn over the music, “HI YOU MADE IT! YOU LOOK GREAT!”

“I can HEAR YOU!” I shouted back and he burst out laughing. “Are you _drunk_ already? It’s only half ten, Z!”

“Come on, we’re sitting at a booth,” Zayn crowed, tugging my hand. I grabbed Lakyn and dragged him along with me. It was a small table, just across from the dancefloor.

Niall, Liam, Louis and a gorgeous girl with frizzy hair were already sitting down. Seeing as she was wrapped around Liam, I could only assume she was Danielle.

“Bec!” called the other guys and I smiled tightly. Well I could already guess this was going to be awkward.

“Hey guys,” I said over the music, “Any space for us?” Louis slid over with an innocent enough grin. Lakyn signalled for me to slide in first, and I did so I was pushed up against Louis. He was smirking now. Lakyn sat down on my other side and I introduced him.

“Guys, this is Lakyn. Babe, this is Zayn, Liam, Niall and…Louis,” I said, nodding at them.

“Oh I remember you,” said Lakyn to Louis over me, as Louis ordered a few drinks. “The guy with the nice car.”

“I remember you too,” muttered Louis, looking away. I elbowed him in the stomach.

“Not to mention,” added Liam, “Bec, I don’t think you’ve ever met Dani, have you?”

“You must be Bec,” Danielle gushed, leaning over and pecking my cheek, “God, the things I’ve heard about _you_!” I blushed, glancing at Liam who gave me a sheepish smile.

“I’ve heard a lot of you too,” I replied, “Liam absolutely dotes on you.”

“Does he?” said Danielle in surprise, shaking her head, “All these surprises I get out of this one.”

“Where’s Eleanor then, Louis?” I asked, with a raised eyebrow. He shot me a look.

“She couldn’t make it, she’s studying,” he said pointedly, “Pity.”

“Mhmm,” I said, turning just as the drinks arrived. I shook my head when Lakyn offered me one. “No thanks.”

“What’s this, Bec turning down a drink?” said Zayn sounding tipsy, “What _happened_?”

“Nothing!” I said defensively, “I’m just trying not going to get smashed again until I’m actually of age.”

“Wonder how long that’ll last,” he muttered, taking a deep gulp of his drink. I kicked him under the table. “Bloody hell! You’re not supposed to do that while you wear _high heels_! You probably shattered my shins.”

“Where’s Pez?” I said, leaning over the table, and Zayn leant forward to meet me. He kissed me. I jerked away as he laughed madly.

“She’s somewhere,” he said, waving his hand, “She’ll be back for more.” I glanced at Lakyn to gauge his reaction. He looked a little worked up already.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” I muttered, standing up and shuffling past Lakyn, while wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. He grabbed my hand.

“I’ll come along.”

“Haha! Can’t help yourself, can you, Bec?” yelled Zayn as I stormed away. I didn’t know whether he was referring to my drinking habits, or with my taste in men. We reached the bar and sat down.

“Those are your friends?” asked Lakyn disbelievingly, as he ordered a few. “I thought they’d be you know…cooler.”

“They are,” I said defensively, “But they’re a bit surprised by you, I think. Louis just doesn’t like new people, and Zayn’s drunk already.”

“Is that normal? The guys spontaneously kissing you?” he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Nah,” I replied quickly, “Not at all. Zayn just likes his drink, he usually doesn’t go for stuff like that. I’ll get pissed at him in the morning.” No, I probably won’t, because I know it was just him being Zayn.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I startled. I looked up to see Haz, smiling down at me.

“You’re here!” Haz greeted us.

He was wearing a black blazer, a red shirt and beige pants, flicking his hair excessively as usual. By the looks of it, he had just left a gaggle of gossiping girls at the other end of the bar. He caught sight of Lakyn and flinched. Lakyn blinked and an instant smirk fell upon his lips. 

“Haz, this is Lakyn,” I said, nervously, and I felt Lakyn’s hand squeeze mine reassuringly. “Lakyn, Harry Styles.”

“Ah, ‘f course,” said Lakyn with a smile, shaking hands with Harry, who looked a little uncomfortable. What was this? Haz didn’t do uncomfortable. It was almost as though Lakyn had managed to outdo him at his own game; smouldering eyes and slow, seductive voice. “Bec told me all about you.”

“H-has she?” inquired Haz, shooting me a look which I ignored, merely tipping the edge of my bottle towards him.

“Happy Birthday man,” Lakyn added. I couldn’t help but notice Haz’s eyes fixed on Lakyn and I’s hands intwined on the bar counter.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said in a half-grumble. “You guys enjoy yourself.” He walked off without another word and Lakyn chortled. I looked at him in surprise.

“You should have told me that your friend is bitter about us,” he said with a smirk, sipping from his bottle. “He’s obviously got it in for you.” I blinked.

“Haz is just a friend, Lakyn. Honest.”

“Oh it doesn’t worry me,” he assured, “I’m not letting him get you.” Someone nudged me and I started, turning around. There stood a gorgeous tall blonde girl, leaning over the bar.

“Sorry, did I nudge you?” she said, “I’m so sorry. It’s a little cramped here, isn’t it?” I stared at her, my mind slowly fitting together like a puzzle. “Sorry, do…do I know you?”

“Emma,” I said abruptly, “Emma Ostilly. You’re Emma Ostilly.” Good god, she was even more gorgeous in real life. I felt so inferior.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m Bec,” I said, turning away from Lakyn. For some reason, I was intrigued by her. “Harry’s friend.”

“Oh yes, Bec!” she exclaimed, her gorgeous blonde hair swishing over her shoulder, “Harry’s mentioned you so much!” How many times had I heard that tonight?

“You too,” I said, feeling a little apologetic, “I was sort of the one who leaked that thing about you two going out.”

“Oh that’s OK,” she said lightly, “It prompted him to ask me out finally. Apparently he was planning to before, then you leaked it so he asked me.”

“What?” I asked distractedly, but Haz popped up behind her, looking disgruntled.

“I see you’ve met Emma,” he said, “Emma, Bec.”

  1. “Oh and this is my boyfriend, Lakyn,” I said, pointing behind me without leaving my gaze on Harry. 



The techno music of early Britney started playing.

“DANCE!” I yelled, grabbing Lakyn’s hand, “Let’s go!” I avoided Harry and Emma, and made a beeline for the dancefloor. Lakyn followed me with an amused smile on his lips. Yes, I know that it was an incredibly sexy-time song, and it was practically the story of some young desperate girl, but I ignored it and started to dance.

In no time, I was completely lost in the rage of the thumping music and the flashing lights. I spun around, and Lakyn instantly wrapped his arms around my waist and held me against him. He had that unbelievably hot grin on his face. I was confident, even though I was admittedly wearing not much, I couldn’t revel in his attention enough.

Lakyn’s lips brushed my neck, sending goosebumps across my skin. I shuddered.

_Little girl, don’t step into the club,  
I’m just trying to find out why, cos dance is what I love_

“Who got you all hyped up?” he smirked, running a hand up my arm, across my shoulders, brushing my hair to one side. I could feel his every breath on my neck.

“No one,” I grinned, “I’m just feeling crazy tonight, you know?” I was really bad at this confidence-talk thing.

“Wanna get out of here soon?” he whispered in my ear and I bit my lip with a smile. I lowered my eyes and slowly grinded against him, as if making it _very_ clear what I wanted.

Just as the song got to it’s climax, and our bodies were so close, I was pressed so tight against him that I could every part of his warm body through our thin layers of clothes.

_Baby, don’t you wanna dance up on me?_

I was on fire tonight, I had only had a few drinks, but I rarely danced, but for some reason I felt as though I was in the zone. Unusual confidence was ruling my body. I was dancing like there was no tomorrow.

_I’m a sla-ave for you,  
I cannot hold it, I cannot control it  
I’m a sla-ave for you,  
I won’t deny it, I’m not trying to hide it_

I turned back around, wrapping my arms around his neck and continuing to dance. His breathing was short in my ear, biting down on his lip, those seductive eyes looking me up and down, and for once, I felt as though _I_ was the one who was in charge. That was, until a hand wrapped around mine and tugged me away.

“W-no…Harry!” I spat angrily, turning expectantly, only to find Louis standing there with a raised eyebrow. “Oh. It’s you.”

“I don’t even want to ask why you expected _Harry_ to wrench you away from that,” he said flatly, glancing at Lakyn who looked a little derailed by this interruption. “Sorry, Lactose, I’ve got to borrow her for a second.”

“What are you doing?” I hissed as Louis dragged me off towards the bar, sat me down and ordered me a cranberry vodka. “I was in the middle of something there.”

“Yes, quite obviously the middle of his legs,” Louis said snarkily, sitting down as my drink arrived. He pushed it toward me. “Here. Better than you having anymore of that Blue Long Island that your boyfriend got you.”

“I didn’t even finish that,” I replied, but sipped the cranberry vodka moderately. “Whatever this is, it better worth my time.”

“Bec,” he said, placing his head in his hand and sighing. “You’re just…please- hey sir, a Washington Red Apple, please? Thanks.” He folded in his arms on the luminescent, the blue lights catching his pretty face quite nicely.

“Louis, if this is something to do with H-”

“This has _everything_ to do with Harry, alright?” he demanded, grabbing someone’s abandoned shot glass and downing the questionable liquid before I could protest. “Urgh.” He rubbed his eyes and peered at me through them.

“Do you even know who’s drink that was?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” he replied dismissively, turning to me, “Bec, you probably weren’t paying attention, but I know for a _fact_ that you were just putting on that sexy dancing show to get Harry worked up.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I scoffed, quickly swallowing half my drink. “You’re out of your freaking mind. Suddenly, I can’t dance without it being a slutty show off?”

“I never said you were being a slut,” he said lightly as his actual drink arrived. “But it was very slutty, yes. Come on, Bec, don’t tell me that for one second during that…that _episode_ , you didn’t think about Harry?”

“No,” I snapped, taking another mouthful. It sort of burned in large quantities. “This is disgusting.”

“Then why did you immediately think it was Harry who pulled you out of that, hmm?” he demanded, his blue-grey eyes staring into me. “Seriously Bec, I don’t believe that you’re that stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!” I snapped again, because Louis for doing a pretty stellar job of pissing me off at the moment.

“I never said you were,” he replied, placing his hand gently over mine, his tone softening as though noticing how angry I was getting. “Bec, you should have seen his face when he saw you out there dancing like that. With _him_. You know how much he pisses him off.”

“So I can’t even dance with my boyfriend because of what Harry Styles thinks?” I said furiously, burning at the injustice of the situation. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” I took another gulp of the cranberry vodka.

“What about Lakyn?”

“What _about_ him? Can you guys not tempt yourselves and just leave him alone?” I snapped.

“No,” said Louis firmly, “We don’t trust him, that’s why. Are you just using him as a piece in your own game?”

“Louis, I _swear_ one more word from that mouth…”

“To get back at Haz? For all those girls he went after when you were still back in Sydney?” I got up shakily to my feet, because uncontrollable anger was boilng my blood. I had to get away from him before I exploded.

“Please don’t ruin my night, and just stay away from me, Lou.”

“Just promise me you’re not doing this just to piss him off?”

“For god’s sake!” I shouted, pouncing up and shoving Louis’ hand off mine, “Stop flattering him, despite what you think, he is _not_ the fucking centre of my universe!”

“What’s going on?” demanded Lakyn, walking up and looking slightly angry, for some reason. “This guy bothering you, Bec?”

“This- this guy bothering her?” repeated Louis, standing up, even worse off because he was about half a head shorter than Lakyn. “I’m her fucking friend, so why don’t you just _lay off_ …”

“Louis,” I snarled warningly, but it was too late. Even I was surprised as Lakyn’s fist connected squarely with Louis’ jaw, letting out a shriek of shock.

From the tale of Louis taking on James Logan in the Taverna, I expected him to be some sort of Muhammad Ali. What I _didn’t_ expect was for him to crumple to the ground like he’d been shot. Ironically, he was gunned down by my boyfriend.

“SHIT!” I cried, torn between whether to drop to my knees and cradle Louis, who’s head narrowly missed his barstool, or whether to drag Lakyn out of here before the boys came over and started to turn on him. “Oh…oh shit! What have you, I-”

“What the fuck happened?” I heard Zayn’s say. Uh-oh. Too late. I sunk to my knees, helping to prop Louis up against me. My fingertips traced his jaw, already laced with a nasty looking reddish purple patch.

“Crap,” I muttered, brushing the hair from his face. His eyes were shut. “Louis…Lou, babe, open your eyes. Lou, please-”

“Bec!” said Harry, and I looked up. Of course he was the first here. “Wh- Lou!” He looked truly worried as he dropped down beside me. He held Louis’ face in one of his hands, slapping him lightly.

“Is he out cold?” I heard Liam’s voice. I didn’t even want to look up. I’d have to look at Lakyn, who all of a sudden, I didn’t even know who he was. Sure I was pissed at Louis, but his instinct to immediately hit him alarmed me, admittedly scared me.

That annoying flop of hair that always fell infront of his face. I quickly burhsed it aaway again.

“What happened?” demanded Harry, looking at me. There was something different about the way he looked at me. Not really at me, but through me. “Bec? _Bec?_ ”

“Lakyn hit him,” I blurted. Whoops.

Instantaneously, Harry’s face blanched as though he was going to be sick. Before I could say anything, he got to his feet, clearing room for Liam and Zayn to rush through. I had to look up now, didn’t I? I glanced up, letting Liam take Louis’ head tenderly, saying his name repeatedly with no response.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Harry snarled, getting all up in Lakyn’s gear, which probably wasn’t a good idea, seeing as what had just happened to Louis. “You’re at _my_ party, you’re playing by _my_ rules in here, you fucking asshole. You _don’t_ lay punches into my mates, ‘ight?”

“That douchebag was bothering Bec,” Lakyn snapped back, his fist tightening by his side. I jumped up quickly, nearly toppling over unsteadily.

“Guys, don’t- please don’t fight,” I gasped, looking down at Louis, “Let’s just-”

“Don’t fight?” snapped Harry, taking an intimidating step towards Lakyn. “That dickhead just punched up my best friend at _my_ party! You’re out of here. Now.”

“Harry, don’t be rash,” I said tersely, “Just breathe, and…”

“And what?” he said, rounding on me, “Look down at unconscious Louis? What are you _doing_ Bec, sticking up for him?” He was staring at me like he didn’t know me either, which was tearing me apart inside, because he should have been looking at _Lakyn_ like that, not _me_.

“I’m not saying what he did was right,” I replied, “But you can’t j-”

“Yes I can!” he burst out indignantly, flipping his curly hair out of the way and looked far more furious than before. “For fuck’s sake, this is supposed to be my party, not some stupid rave where people get drunk and bash each other up!”

“Like I said- I’m not gonna stand for anyone bullying her,” Lakyn shot back, gathering a fistful of Harry’s shirt in his hand. I shoved them apart.

“Both of you! Stop it!” I shouted, but Harry was leering at us, brushing his hand over his creased front.

“What, so suddenly you need to be _protected_ , Bec?” he sniggered, while staring at Lakyn. “You _need_ each other? I expected more, honestly.” I was inexplicably torn again, between which of them to get angry at first. He tried to step forward, but I held my hand up, holding him back.

“You’re just touchy about Bec and I,” sneered Lakyn, making me start almost as much as Louis’ suggestion did. _Lakyn_ knew? What the fuck?! My hand abruptly dropped from Harry’s front, and I saw him wince noticably. “You and your-”

“Shutthefuckup!” yelled Harry so abruptly, that his fast words were nothing but an angry blur. His cheeks were red. Suddenly, Emma appeared at his side, looking worried. Emma in all her swishy, blonde, jawdroppingly gorgeous model genes.

“Haz…?” For some stupid reason, her endearment for him made me bubble a little inside. _I_ called him Haz. It was weird if anyone else did. “Jesus, is Louis OK? Are you, Bec?”

“Bec was just leaving,” said Harry, turning his angry stare to me. I wasn’t used to him being angry with me. Not like this. “With her friend. Now.” Gulping, I saw no other option. I turned, and headed towards the exit, knowing Lakyn would follow.

As soon as I stormed outside, I stood there, my arms wrapped around myself. I hadn’t realised how cramped and stuffy it was in there. I heard the door close behind me.

“What the fuck was going through your head?” I snapped, not bothering to turn around. The touch of someone’s warm hand on my bare back made me jump, and I saw Niall looking at me with concern. His hair was all soft again, I could imagine him running his hand through it as he always did.

“You OK?”

“Sorry,” I breathed, “I thought you were Lakyn.” I flushed, more of being embarrassed by Lakyn’s actions, more than anything.

“Oh. Well he’s still inside.”

“Idiot. Harry’s going to bash his brains in.”

“What happened?” I shook my head and made a noise in the back of my throat. Disgust, anger, frustration. All emotions I was far too familiar with than I should have been. Instead, I remained silent, standing there with my arms wrapped around me, staring out at the street.

Eventually, he let me be and stood there beside me, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“How’s Louis?” I asked timidly.

“Still out cold, last time I checked,” he said, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Look…Bec, none of us blame you for what he did.”

“Where is he?” I snapped, “I’m going to…what I _won’t_ do _–_ ”

“Do you want to talk to him?” I shook my head again firmly. Of that I was sure. Lakyn was positively not on my confortation list at the moment.

“I thought I knew him,” I sighed, letting out a deep breath. “I didn’t know he could just snap like that. And to think I let it happen. To Louis.”

“Louis’ strong,” he started, “He’s a fighter-”

“Oh jeez, you’re making it sound like he’s dying,” I moaned, burying my face in my hands. “You didn’t hear the two of them- Haz and Lakyn, they were snarling and swearing, and god the things they _said_ …”

“No one blames you,” he assured, “Harry’s put off by…by him I think. To be honest, those two are actually pretty similar. Haz hates to be beaten at his own game.”

“Why does everyone say that?” I demanded, more despairingly than angrily, “They’re _nothing_ alike! Then…then he _said_ that he was just touchy about _…_ ”

“Who said?” I shook my head again.

“This was a bad idea.”

“No one blames you,” he repeated calmly, “You’ve only been seeing him for what, two months? That’s nothing, Bec. In fact, if you think about it, it was lucky.”

“ _Lucky?_ ”

“What if he went off at _you_ like that?” he asked, with his imploring eyes, “What if none of us were there, and he had hit you?”

“I…” I trailed off quietly. He was right of course. But the possibility scared me. He always seemed so…controlled. It occurred to me that the smouldering, sexy exterior of Lakyn could have been masking a madman. “There’s a difference between two guys having a punch up and a guy hitting a girl.”

He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Is there?”

“Only you could see him hitting Louis as a stroke of luck, Nialler.” He chuckled and extended his hand to me.

“Come on,” he encouraged, “Come back inside with me. I know for a fact that Harry still wants you at his party.”

“He kicked me out,” I frowned with a sniff.

“You know him, he’s impatient,” Niall replied, “I bet you he’s regretting it right now. He’ll probably take care of your boyfriend for good measure.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, staring at the entrance to the club, “Will it be messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Will there be lots of shouting?”

“Yeah.”

“Will Harry be in the middle of it as usual?”

“…yeah.”

Well, at least he was honest. I could tell he was watching me, gauging my response. I knew that feeling too well. He had done the exact same thing the first time I had laid him down on my couch one rainy night, and I peeled a bloody towel off him. “Bec? Do you love him?”

I looked at Niall in shock.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Niall, the last thing I want from you at the moment is a lie.”

“I just wanted to know if you love him,” he shrugged, attempting to brush it off. His smile almost seemed forced. “He loves you.”

It was a statement so simple, which could throw me off so easily.

Louis had told me the same thing, but it was the day after Niall had walked out on tour, and I hardly even knew Harry, so I dismissed it. But this. It was different. Not only had Harry and I turned into…I don’t even know what, but it was Niall saying it as well. The first boy I had fallen in love with.

He was practically giving me permission to do just that.

“I doubt it,” I laughed quietly, “It’s very difficult.” He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Oh, yeah, he would know.

He guided me towards the door and we stepped back into the club. What greeted us was quite a confronting scene.

The first thing I saw was Lakyn and Harry trying desperately to get their hands on each other for all the wrong reasons – only just held apart by Zayn, holding back irate Harry, and Liam trying to come to a compromise, wedging himself in the middle, despite being the subject of mis-hit punches and kicks. Niall was right, there was a _lot_ of shouting. The entire party had come to a standstill just to watch.

Louis was propped up on his barstool, eyes still shut, slumped over the countertop with a worried looking Emma with her hand on his back, clearly having no idea what to do.

“Oh my god,” I breathed, not even knowing where to start. Niall opened his mouth to say something, just as Harry noticed our entrance. He turned his spitting fury to me instead, for which I didn’t even blame him.

“YOU!” he spat, storming towards me. I nearly recoiled, but stood my ground. He pointed at me, then pointed at Lakyn. “You brought this piece of crap into here, so take him away and get out of my party!” I deserved it. I let go of Niall’s hand, stepping forward to meet him.

“I will,” I replied calmly, not wanting to appear weak. I glanced over his shoulder at Lakyn who shoved Liam off him and shot a curse word at him for the fun of it.

Harry looked ready to go off again, but Niall thankfully had his arm fastened on Harry’s to stop him. He flicked his curly hair out of his eyes, glaring at me with such burning intensity that I was not used to, that I took a clear step back. Those green eyes were piercing, in a strange, appealingly scary way.

“This is stupid, let’s go Bec,” Lakyn muttered, trying to take my hand, but I wrenched it away.

“You’re leaving,” I snapped, pointing at the door, “Now.” He looked at me blankly. Yes admittedly, being dumped after two and a half months by some girl right after a bar fight wasn’t the ideal way to go, but he’d get over it.

“W-”

“You can’t expect to turn a blind eye to the fact that you knocked my best friend out cold,” I said angrily, tossing the hair out of my eyes. “I don’t play with that sort of shit. I said, “Get out of here. I don’t want to see you again. At all.”

“Me over them?” he demanded through gritted teeth, “After everything?” I stared at him without a word. He glanced at Harry and my heart sunk- would he say anything?

“Have fun chasing that one,” he smirked. He stared at me for a short moment, then turned on his heels and walked right out the door without another word.

Fastest break-up ever.

It wasn’t the most dramatic, but it was pretty high up there. I let out a massive breath like a burden had been lifted off my shoulders. A subdued hum of whispered conversation resumed, most likely gossip. Harry was standing there, with the dumbest expression on his face I’d seen all night. His jaw was nearly brushing his hip.

“ _What_?” I snapped moodily.

“You didn’t have to break up with him,” he said quietly, seemingly having given up all struggle now that his agression trigger was no longer present. “I didn’t mean to…Bec, I’m-”

“This isn’t about you, OK?” I shot back, “It’s about _me_ for once, and it’s about what he did to Louis. I’m not even vaguely interested if you and him decided to kill each other because of some streak of masochistic pride.” He merely gaped at me as I flounced towards the bar towards Emma.

“Quite a performance there, Bec,” she said, “You alright? You seem a little shaken.”

“I’m fine,” I replied. She had no need to worry about my normal-people problems. “How’s Louis?”

“Still out cold,” she said, not touching him. “He’s still breathing, though.” I leant down, brushing my hand across his forehead affectionately.

“Sorry, Lou,” I whispered. The patch on his lower jaw was still there, an ugly colour to remind me of an ugly event. I couldn’t be here much longer. I had successfully ruined everything.

“Bec?” It was Niall, at my elbow again. He was my best friend tonight. “You OK?” Really, was that all everyone wanted to know?

“I’m fine,” I repeated patiently, “I just want to go home.”

“Do you want me to call you a cab?”

“It’s OK, I’ll get one myself,” I said, grabbing my coat off the booth we were sitting in before. “Night Em, night Niall.” I leant over, kissing Emma on her smooth, powdered cheek. She smelled like daisies. I turned to Niall, embracing him in a tight hug without another thought.

He on the other hand, smelled like alcohol. It almost made me laugh.

I drew away, and waved them goodbye.

“Call me later, soon as possible, let me know how Louis’ doing, ‘ight?” I said, looking down at him. “God I wish I could stay, but…” I was going to say something about not wanting to aggravate Harry, before sharply reminding myself that Emma was his girlfriend. “…it’s getting late. Night.”

I turned and started walking towards the exit, just as Liam stepped in my way. I nearly collided into him out of shock. 

“Crap!” I muttered, rubbing my eyes, “Don’t do that, Liam. No girls gonna trust you if you pounce on them.”

“Where are you going?” he demanded, choosing to ignore my jibe. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Actually,” I said firmly, tightening my grip on my coat, “I am. I’ll see you around, Li.” I brushed past him and headed for the door.

“What about Haz?” I stopped walking, closing my eyes momentarily and then turning around with them open again.

“What _about_ Haz?” I shot back. Liam just looked at me with that annoying ‘really-I-don’t-believe-you’ look on his face. Frustrated already, I stormed back towards him, murmuring, “Fine, Payne, see what good it’ll do you.”

I marched up to Harry, leaning on one of the booths by himself, looking rather lonely. He glanced up as I approached. I knew immediately something was wrong. He was looking at me like he was some despairingly miserable thing. I opened my mouth. I wanted to slide down and ask him what was wrong, hug him, and try to tell him things. What good would it do, though? His gorgeous girlfriend was waiting for him across the bar. That was her job now. I closed my mouth again with a snap.

“Sorry for ruining your birthday party, Hazza,” I whispered, then I turned before he could registed my words, and walked back out.


	18. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry haven't updated for AGES!  
> extra long and hard chapter to make up for it? this should be interesting enough.  
> & if you were wondering, there's an intertextual (big words right here) reference to le song.  
> youtube it, it's a PERFECT song for haz+bec. Almost Lovers- A Fine Frenzy. pity it's not a duet though!
> 
> hope you enjoy it :)  
> much love  
> xx

 

_Present Day  
mid February, 2013_

 

 

 

“Bec? It’s alright, you can come out,” Liam said assuringly. I poked my head around the changing curtain to their eager faces. I was too self-conscious for my own good.

“Really? I _don’t_ think so, Liam,” I scoffed, ducking my head subconsciously as always.

“Just come out.”

“ _No_.”

“Just do it, Bec,” he said exasperatedly.

“It’s not funny! Stop sniggering, Niall!”

“I’m not!” Niall protested weakly, just long enough to maintain a straight face. “I bet you look hot. Just get out here.”

“NO!” I barked shaking my head furiously and hiding back behind the curtain, “NO! You do not _understand_ this is the _opposite_ of hot! It’s like I’m in high school again.”

“Technically, you _were_ still in high school a year ago,” Niall pointed out evenly, “We’ve all seen you in it, we won’t think any less of ya Bec.”

“Oh that I don’t worry about,” I answered dismissively, pulling and adjusting the tunic, “It’s technically impossible for you guys to think any worse of me.”

“Don’t make me drag you out,” he warned with a laugh, stepping around the curtain. “Come on- wow.”

“What?” I demanded, taking a defensive step back. He eyed me slowly up and down, his steady gaze finally landing on mine. “ _What?_ ”

“Nothing,” he said quietly with a small smile, reaching out and catching my scarf in his grasp. “It’s just like stepping back in time all over again, innit?” I shrugged, not really sure what he meant. “You were wearing that the first time I saw you.” I blinked. Thinking about it, yes I was.

“Niall-”

“Well?” said Liam, peeking his head around the curtain as well, “Gonna leave me hanging? Oh, well what on earth were you complaining about Bec? You look absolutely fine in your school uniform.” I scowled and he chortled at my expression.

I was wearing a white school shirt donned with a school tie, a tunic, tights and a sweater. It wasn’t even an ugly uniform, it could be quite attractive at times in fact, such as the time where I ‘lured’ Niall Horan into my house and seduced him with offers of food and kisses. However, it made me feel like I was sixteen again.

“Louis’ll appreciate it,” commented Niall, a grin stretching across his lips. His hair was especially mussed up today, something about an interview. “When’s Zayn coming around to pick you up?”

“Soon,” I muttered, tugging at my skirt, wishing it was longer, before moaning. “How did I let you talk me into this? Why did I make it so short?”

“Slut.”

“Hey!”

“Just saying!” he laughed jokingly, holding his hands up in surrender, “No, you’ve got long legs to show off Bec, you’re fine.”

“I’ll be confused for a school girl.”

“You _are_ a school girl!”

“I resent that, Liam!” I called around the curtain and Niall chuckled. “Have you guys been to see Lou yet?”

“We hung around the day after Haz’s party,” he admitted, and I felt guilty immediately. “Don’t look like that, Bec. He was OK; you know him, the typical moaning, complaining and everything. No one was fooled apart from Harry, that’s only because he loves him so much.”

I laughed.

“Too right. Was he angry at me?”

“He’s trying to be,” Niall replied, “He’s pretty terrible at it, though.”

“Nialler! They’re ready for us, two minutes,” said Liam, beckoning us out from behind the curtain. “Zayn just texted, Bec, he’ll be here in five.”

“Well, he’s gonna get a right gag out of seeing me in this,” I sighed as we walked around and left the room. We walked down the hallway and into an unfamiliar room again, this time there was a small door on the left to a closed off recording studio for a radio station.

“Can’t count the number of these I’ve done,” he muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets. “’Expect they’ll call us in soon.”

“Don’t you ever get…nervous?” I inquired, regarding him closely. He shrugged non-chalantly, flicking his blonde hair unnecessarily. I laughed, despite myself. His blue eyes flitted to me for a moment, then dropped, a small smile on his lips.

“It’s getting to be a bad habit.”

“Ruffling your hair too?”

“Yeah that.”

“No, I think it’s cute.” Great. Where had _that_ come from? He laughed in shock more than anything, and shook his head at me.

“Well, then maybe I’ll still to that,” he grinned, just as Liam came in.

“One minute,” he breathed, slapping him on the back, “You ready, mate?” Niall sighed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and shrugged.

“Ready as always,” he mumbled, “You gonna sit out here n watch, Bec?” I looked at the couch, on the other side of the glass.

“Yeah, I’ll just hang out till Zayn gets up here.” I took a seat on the comfy

“And _welcome_ back to Voice Radio! This is what everyone’s been waiting for, isn’t it? We’re joined now by One Direction’s Niall Horan and Liam Payne! Welcome, boys.”

“Hi,” the boys chimed in unison, Liam added, “Thanks for having us.”

“My pleasure and I bet so it is for all our listeners today!” exclaimed the host, looking excited, “Now, I hear that you guys are planning for your upcoming tour of the US in a couple of months.”

“That’s right, it’s gonna be amazing to be back there again” said Liam,

“We’re all really excited about the release of our next album,” continued Niall, “We’re all hoping the fans reception of it will be as great as it was for _Up All Night_. It’ll be great to go back there; we know how much great support we get from the fans there.”

“How’s work on the album going?”

“Uh, it’s great,” said Liam, glancing at Niall over the jumble of microphones, “We’ve recorded…I don’t know, about half of them so far? The people we’ve worked with are just incredible, you know, all this backing from other artists is really flattering.”

“We had Ed Sheeran come back in and help us with a few songs,” Niall said, one hand in his hair. I probably shouldn’t have encouraged him. “He wrote _Moments_ with us for the first album which was, you know, just fantastic.”

“We also had Tom McFly come in,” Liam said, “Yeah, we’re really proud of it, so we hope people enjoy it as much as we enjoyed putting it together.”

“So Liam, I here you and girlfriend Danielle Peazer have been seeing each other for how long? There are rumours that she might be dancing on your next tour as well?” Funny how the subject could so quickly change from their music to girls.

“About two and a half years,” he said proudly, a smile on his face. His gaze averted to me and I gave him the thumbs up. He chuckled. “She’s amazing, I’m so glad I have her. But I don’t think she’ll be coming on tour with us as a dancer, we don’t really have back-up dancers or anything.”

“So she might be coming with you just as entourage?”

“We’re not sure yet, but the tickets need to be sold first!” he laughed, “Concert tickets for Dallas to Toronto come out next week!” I grinned to myself. As if they’d have any problem at all selling out mega arenas within seconds.

“And Niall, you’re from Ireland, is that correct?”

“Does the accent give it away?”

“Maybe just a little, you know? We’ve heard that-”

“Hey!” whispered Zayn and I jumped as he poked me in the shoulder. He slid down onto the couch next to me. “Jeez calm down, you look on edge.”

“Hi,” I said, glancing back through the glass and listening them continue to talk, “Sorry, I was just listening.”

“You ready to go?” he whispered. He was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans and white shirt. Well, typical bikie gear, wasn’t it?

“You do realise they can’t hear us?” I asked and he straightened up.

“Yes,” he huffed, pulling on his jacket, “How are they handling themselves?”

“Fine, fine,” I said dismissively, “The lot of you have done this so many times you don’t have to worry about a bloody thing.” We sat in silence, listening to Niall discuss X-Factor days.

“It’s always the exact same questions.”

“Should we get going?” I sighed, standing up. His eyes bulged and he promptly burst out laughing.

“I didn’t notice!” he gasped, clutching his midsection, “You’re _uniform_! Stroke of genius, it’ll make Louis a happy camper.”

“Enough of laughing at me,” I sapped, smacking his shoulders, “Let’s go, eh? I want to get back home early; I’ve got my exams coming up soon, I want to study.” He shrugged, standing up before catching sight of my outfit and erupting into girlish giggles. “For god’s sake!”

I turned on my heel and headed towards the door, throwing a wave over my shoulder throw the glass at Niall and Liam.

Zayn chased me back out the building until we reached the street.

“I’m just playing Bec,” he said, looping me in a bear hug, “To be honest, you look like a naughty school girl, or something someone bought from a sex shop.”

“Urgh!” I yelped, shaking him off, “ _No_! See this is why…I don’t Louis to think it’s some kinky dress-up thing.”

“Are you sure you’re worried about _Louis_?” Zayn asked, avoiding my eye and fishing around in his jacket for his keys. I eyed him suspiciously. He could be clueless sometimes, but I guess there were a few things which couldn’t go that easily unnoticed.

“Yep,” I said casually.

“Haz’ll probably be home.”

“That’s lovely, Zayn.”

“Oh come on Bec!” he moped, finally looking at me, his keys dangling from his finger. “Don’t try dodge around it! He’s been miserable since the party and I think he blames himself for you and Lakyn for breaking up.”

“No he doesn’t,” I said dismissively, “I told him clearly that it was my choice, and that he had nothing to do with it. If he thinks it’s him, then it’s just him being self-centred.”

“But then why’d you dump him?”

“Because he punched Louis, despite having never actually having a legit conversation with him. He knew Louis was my friend, yet he still just lashed out like that. I won’t date a douchebag,” I replied staunchly.

“Oh so now he’s a _douchebag_? I never thought I’d see the day when you agreed with Louis Tomlinson.”

“I was just getting sick of him, alright?”

“I doubt it,” Zayn scoffed, “I mean; you went out with that guy with two months. And he was hot.”

“Then why don’t _you_ date him?” I demanded, my hands shooting out and grabbing the keys from him. He let out a squeak of surprise. “Where’s your car, Z?”

“Oh,” he laughed breathily, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You told me I owed you a ride. No car.” My eyes widened.

“You _didn’t_.”

“I did,” he admitted sheepishly, and I looked at the shiny new black Harley Davidson sitting on the sidewalk. “Surprise?” I let out a happy shriek and enveloped him in a hug.

“You’re forgiven,” I mumbled into his neck. I think I heard him ask,

“For what?” But I chose to ignore him.

Riding on a motorbike was everything had imagined. Zayn was decent at it, so at least we weren’t swerving corners like the V8. We reached Mantle Apartments in less than twenty minutes, and even though I was quite ruffled, and my fingers were numb from clinging to him, I felt exhilarated.

“I want one!” I proclaimed, my eyes sparkling, “It’s amazing, Z. It really is.”

“I know,” he said proudly, parking it and climbing off. “Now I can be a bikie.”

“You’re too soft to be a bikie,” I sniggered as we walked up the steps, through the doors and into the complex. “You’d either be kicked out, stabbed in the back or get shot.”

“Your faith in me in astounding,” he shot back sarcastically, his arm thrown around my neck. “Frank, Haz and Lou’s for Bec, my place for me.” Frank nodded and buzzed us up. We took the now functioning elevators up. It reminded me irrevocably of my first visit back here.

We climbed out of the elevator and Zayn bid me goodbye with a smirk. Loser.

I stood infront of their door, weighing up my choices. I was surprisingly nervous. How should I act around Harry? Nonchalant, aloof, apologetic? Well for one, I had no idea how he’d react to me. My fist had tapped the door twice when it was wrenched open like someone had just been waiting there.

“Hi Bec,” Haz said quietly in a hushed voice, a small smile on his lips. He eyes were tired, and he looked knackered, but there seemed like there was a part of him that had returned. “How are ya? Come to see…” He trailed off, staring at my school uniform.

I held up my finger warningly.

“ _Not_ a word, I swear,” I said warningly and he chuckled, beckoning me in.

“Yeah I’ll trust whatever you were thinking,” he murmured as I stepped inside.

“How’s he been?” I whispered as he closed the door behind me and we headed down the hallway towards Louis’ room.

“Alright. He’s woken a few times, but he caught a cold a few days ago, so he’s been in bed all this time anyway,” said Harry quietly, his finger patting out an uncertain rhythm against his leg. He hardly seemed conscious of it.

“I would have visited earlier.”

“’s alright,” he said with a shrug, “At least you’re here now. He misses you, and he gets rather bored too.”

“I guess he would,” I said, as we slowed down right infront of Louis’ door. I shot a nervous glance at him, and found him staring at me. It was in that intense way he used to; but having gone so long without the old Haz, I missed it dearly. “Can…can I go in?”

He blinked then blurted,

“Oh. Of course. Yeah, go in. He might be sleeping.” I gave him a tight smile and stepped inside. For my own privacy, he retreated thankfully. I walked over slowly to the bed. Louis’ tufts of soft brown hair were poking out from under the blanket.

Sighing, I disentangled my bag off my back and dropped it on the floor. I sat down gently on the bed, watching him closely. I reached out to touch his hair when the blanket flew off him and he grabbed my wrist.

In my defense, I let out a terribly loud scream.

“Bec!” he whispered, before howling with laughter, “You’re here, stupid bitch!”

“Yes I am!” I scowled in return, shaking him off me, “You dumb prick, Tomlinson. You scared the _crap_ out of me. How are you, babe?”

“What on earth are you wearing?” he demanded, pulling at the edge of my skirt. “Is this your _school uniform_?”

“Don’t even ask,” I muttered, vaguely embarrassed. “Niall and Liam thought it’d be entertaining. Cheer you up a little.”

“Well, it is quite amusing,” he admitted, sitting up in his bed. “To think, the first time we met, you were wearing that piece. Back then, you were just another pesky fan who Niall took a liking to.” I rolled my eyes. “That reminds me, how are things between you two?”

“I didn’t come here to discuss this,” I said, avoiding his eye and pulling the blanket around his chest. “I’m here to check up on you.”

“Well, you might as well not have bothered, since I’m absolutely fine,” he huffed stubbornly, before sneezing loudly.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered, shaking my head as I leant over and handed him a tissue. “You’re still sick, you knob.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug, “But I’m in house arrest with this one.” The doorbell rang in the distance, and for some reason, my instinct was to rush to answer it. I was hurrying down the hallway before Louis had time to remind that awkwardly, I didn’t even live here.

I stopped abruptly halfway down the corridor, at the sound of the door opening. I nearly slapped myself over my own stupidity. _Harry’s here too, remember?_

“Oh, hey Em.” For some reason, it felt like the air had abruptly changed. Instead of retreating back to Louis’ room and minding my own bloody business like I probably should have, I poked my head around the corner and listened in despite myself.

“Hi Haz, can I come in? How are you, how’s Louis?” I heard her say. All I could see was the back of Harry’s curly head. He reached up with his hand and started fiddling with them.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he sighed. I was momentarily thrown off by the response. Blowing off his girlfriend for Louis? “I mean, Lou’s not really better yet, and I have to keep taking care of him. I don’t have much time now.”

“I can come in and help?”

“No, really,” he protested, “You might catch a cold from him, he’s sneezing his head off at the moment.”

“What about you, then?”

“I’m OK,” he replied lightly. I turned on my heel, thinking to myself _yeah right. Immune system made of steel_. I didn’t know why, but it seemed strange for him to blow her off. They’d been together for almost three months now, which was probably by far the longest relationship I could recall Haz ever having with one person.

I walked into the room to see Louis gazing at me expectantly.

“Well? Who was it?”

“Haz answered it. It was Emma,” I said slowly, sitting back down on his bed.

“Oh she dropped by _again_? Where is she?”

“She’s…she’s not coming in,” I replied uncertainly, shaking my head slowly, “I mean, Haz told her he needed to take care of you, so she couldn’t come by.”

“What?” said Louis, looking taken aback, “But why’s he…oh.”

“Revelation?”

“Innit obvious, Bec? He’s doing it so he can spend more time not with me, but with _you_ ,” he said, jabbing me in the shoulder. I rubbed it sorely.

“That’s stupid.”

“That’s Harry.”

“You’re feverish. Lie back down, Lou.”

“I don’t need a nurse,” he said thickly, rubbing his nose with it, turning it slowly red. “Haz is overreacting as usual.”

“He’s being awfully motherly, eh?”

“Typical.”

“Oh Louis, it’s only because he cares.” Louis made a disparaging noise in his throat, and looked at me funny.

“God, listen to you Bec,” he scoffed, through a blocked nose. He dumped the tissue on his bedside table and sniffed, his nose now bright red. Like Rudolph. “You’re preaching to the converted. _You_ should start listening to yourself eventually. You give fantastic advice.”

I knew he was taking the piss out of me, but I had no idea what he meant.

“What?”

“Um, hello?” demanded Louis, waving his hand infront of my face, “Only being a dick because he cares?”

“Don’t give me that, Lou.”

“It’s true, I’ll give you _that_ ,” he replied, pointing at me, “However, he’s being awfully dicky around you, isn’t he?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What, the terrible scene at his party where your boyfriend ended up punching me in the face?” he said, turning his head to the side to show off the ugly bruise. It was yellow now, not particularly pleasant.

“Eurgh!” I cried, “Louis! Jeez, that’s nasty. No wonder he wants to keep you in check.”

“Don’t avoid the subject!” he snapped, narrowing his eyes, “I might have been unconscious with a potentially fractured jaw line and in danger of catching a disease which could end up killing me, but I’ve got a pretty keen ear and a great knack for pretending to be asleep.”

I widened my eyes and tried to scramble away, my hands over my ears.

“Don’t want to hear it!” I snapped, “Whatever you heard, Louis, I _don’t_ want to even know-”

The sound of approaching footsteps made us both freeze completely. In a split second, I dove back on to the bed next to Louis and he rolled over, apparently thinking it’d be funny if he pretended to be asleep again. I looked up to see Haz, standing there looking a little awkward.

“Hi,” he said, walking over and sitting down on the sheets across from me, over Louis. “He sleeping?” I felt Louis’ heel positioned against my leg dig into me. I nearly winced, but managed to keep a straight face.

“Yeah,” I answered, and he stopped. “He must be really knackered. A few more days here would help.” That would teach him. Though the venom behind my comment was quiet, I reached out to brush the stray hair across his face to let him know I forgave him. Just a little.

“He missed you, he kept asking for you,” added Harry, and it probably didn’t help that Louis’ ears were clearly turning red. But I was too busy watching Haz’s face to care. His expression was a little clouded, like he was obviously trying to hide something.

“Really?”

“He likes you. A lot,” he said, a slight edge in his tone. The thought of it made me almost smirk.

“I don’t think so,” I replied quietly. If Louis wasn’t pretending to be sleeping, he’d be snickering his head off.

“Ah well, maybe I’ll drop by again later when he’s awake,” I added with a shrug, “No matter what you guys say, I can’t help but feel responsible for him getting hurt, you know. It _was_ my fault.”

“No,” said Haz, immediately, reaching over and taking my hand. The gesture made me stiffen, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Bec, it wasn’t your fault. All that shit I said was just out of…”

  1. “Anger?” I finished sympathetically, gently extracting my hand from his. “Nah, Haz. You were right. I shouldn’t have brought him along in the first place, I just got this feeling you two wouldn’t really get along.” 



“Funny that,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on Louis, “Everyone told me the two of us were alike.” I rolled my eyes.

“Trust me,” I assured, “You and Lakyn are _very_ different.”

“Then it all ended with you two splitting up,” he sighed, furrowing his eyebrows together. “Sorry, again.”

All these apologies, when the two of us clearly meant none of them. Was I truly sorry for providing provocation for Harry in the form of Lakyn? Was he really sorry that we broke up? It was all just confused blurred lines between what was right and not. Complications.

“You keep blaming yourself, Haz.”

“No, _you_ keep blaming yourself, Bec.” Our eyes met for a split second, before I pressed my lips together and looked down at Louis, to find an excuse not to look at him.

“How’s Emma?” No, I _hadn’t_ been imagining it. He had definitely winced at the mention of her. His own girlfriend.

“She’s alright. She’s going overseas for a week in about two weeks, for a modelling job,” he answered. “You met her at the party, right?”

“Yeah, she’s…she’s great. Really, Haz.” I didn’t want to even look at his face.

“Alright.” It was an ambiguous statement. Were we alright? Was he alright? Was the fact that I liked Emma alright? I sighed, my mouth firming into a straight line. I forced myself to meet his eye.

“I mean it, Harry,” I said softly, before looking down at my hands, fumbling over each other, “I really do. She’s…well, I guess it’d be easier to hate her if she was just a dumb bimbo.” I sniffed and he let out a small chuckle. I looked back up at him. “But she’s…she’s not. She’s smart, and gorgeous, and friendly, and- and well, perfect.”

Those green eyes were so intently fixed on mine; it was almost a miracle I didn’t collapse. But I was so held in by them, I lost all other sense of the bedroom around us.

“She’s a- she’s a keeper, Harry,” I said, finding myself whispering, “Y…you should hold on to that one.” Let it go. Just let it go. All this newfound tension between us, and the fact that we were never really ourselves around each other anymore.

He opened his mouth slightly, and then shut it tightly, before his hand began to move across the bed sheets. Towards me. The image was an instant déjà vu. Hadn’t I seen him offer me the same thing a year ago, in a tiny cramped hotel in Sydney?

And god, his face. His lips were slightly parted, a short breath passing them, those endless, bottomless green eyes fixated on my face, gorgeous curly hair flopping against his forehead.

“H-Harry…”

In that brief moment, the Harry Styles that I knew and remembered flitted across his face, and the Bec Lowthorne that he probably hadn’t seen in weeks flitted across mine. We were ourselves again for that split second.

I wanted to laugh, more of relief than anything. Being so close to him that I almost reach out and touch him, it was all familiar. It was him and I.

“What if I don’t want that one?” he whispered, suddenly closer to me than I had remembered. The comment threw me off completely, and I was left winded and breathless. I was still trying to work out what he had said. _What I don’t want that one?_ Did he mean…

“What?” I breathed, my breath hitching in my throat. I could tell he was planning his words carefully.

“What if I don’t…” he trailed off, leaning closer and tilting his head to the right. “What if…”

The sound of the doorbell made us both jump apart like we instantly repelled by some unseen force. I ran my hands up and down my tunic, smoothing the dress out as if trying to calm myself. Harry shot up and out of the room in a blink of an eye.

I sat there, trying to catch my breath and get my head around the situation. Those words which were on their way out his mouth…

Beside me, Louis slowly sat up.

“What was _that_?” he whispered.

 

***

 

“Think of it as therapy.”

“Stick to singing, you’d be a shit therapist.”

“You promised!” Louis hissed, shoving me towards the door, “Go!”

“No emotional goodbye, no nothing?” I demanded, and he threw his arms around me clumsily.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he whispered in to my ear. I huffed as I pushed him off.

“Your faith in me is flattering.”

“Well, you could have done that…you know the other day-”

“I know what you mean!” I snapped, blushing.

“Wouldn’t it have been awkward if you ended up snogging Haz in the same bed as me when I’m pretending to be asleep?”

“I’ll give you awkward, Tomlinson,” I said, ruffling up his hair. “See you in a few days.”

“Have fun!” he called after me as I towed my bag outside down the hallway towards Liam, and Zayn hanging around the elevator.

“Bec,” said Liam, “You ready to go, eh?”

“Yes,” I said tersely, “I’ve got all my stuff. Where’s he waiting?”

“Downstairs with the car,” he answered. Oh so typical. Thanks for waiting, mate.

“Why did he need company in the first place?” asked Zayn, pressing the DOWN button and tucking his hands into his pockets while we waited for the elevator to arrive.

“He’s not an introvert.”

“Please, Bec,” he scoffed, “Don’t try throwing me off with big words. It’s just like, two days back in Holmes Chapel and he needs a bloody escort.”

“He doesn’t do well when he’s by himself,” added Liam. Jeez, I loved him. “Plus, he said it’s about time you meet his family. You _are_ his best friend after all, Bec.”

“No,” I corrected sternly, “ _You_ guys are his best friends after all. He probably thinks it’ll be funny if I don’t understand funny British accents not from London.”

“I’m not from London,” said the two of them in unison, just as the doors slid open. I hugged them both tightly.

“Where’s Niall?” I demanded, having immediately noticed him missing. “Is he around?”

“Sorry Bec, he couldn’t make it,” sighed Liam, “He went out earlier on. But you’ll see him when you get back, eh?”

“He should know hiding won’t make the pain go away.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He stole my Turkish Delights, tell him it hasn’t slipped by me,” I laughed, punching Liam in the shoulder, “Your _face_ Liam.”

“Off you go,” he said gruffly, nudging me towards the lift. I walked in and pressed the G floor button and waved at them until the doors closed infront of our faces. The elevator immediately started grinding as it descended downwards. I stared at my reflection in the back of the doors.

I still was unsure about this entire idea, but maybe Louis would be right for once, that it’d help us to go back to way we were. Before all those post-Sydney complications.

The doors slid open and at once, even twenty metres across the lobby, I took a clear step back at the sheer number of photographer pressed against the glass walls of the entrance. For at least half a minute, I stood there completely flustered, blinking at them. My mind went into meltdown. Frank thankfully noticed me and waved me over. I stumbled across towards the door and he pulled me aside.

“I don’t know what hap-”

“Bec!” That ring of Irish tone in his voice would never disappear, and for that I was thankful. I spun around to see Niall hurrying across the lobby, apparently having mistakenly thought entering through the very front of the building was a legitimately good idea. The cameras were flashing like crazy at his arrival.

“Niall!” I said, relief adamant in my voice, “What’s-”

“Heard Haz’s taking you away,” he said, pulling me in a hug.

“I-just for two days!” I laughed, clinging on to him, wondering how many pictures of this they would get. Eventually he let go. God, he looked god today, didn’t he? “How am I supposed to get anywhere?”

“Mr. Styles is waiting for you in the back lot but I could send his car back down to the car park,” suggested Frank.

“Perfect,” said Niall, firmly, “Let’s go, Bec.” He grabbed my hand and we headed off towards the elevators again. I turned around to face the wall of flashing photographers. As the doors slid shut, I let out a heavy breath. He rubbed my back comfortingly as he pressed the car park button.

“Still not over your fear of photographers?”

“After the last time?” I said, shaking my head, “When I got interrogated? Not really. But this time there were just so bloody many of them, Niall, how did they know?”

“I just got a call from Simon,” he sighed, his arm moving to my shoulders which he continued to rub. “He thinks someone leaked something.”

“What?” I demanded, my head snapping towards him. “Leaked? Does he think it’s _me_?”

“He didn’t say that,” Niall replied uncomfortably. I watched his face.

“No,” I filled in eventually, “But he thinks it, doesn’t he?”

“Did you?”

“W- of course not! You freaking know well how much I hate all those flashing lights,” I said, upset that I had to plead my case to someone like Niall who I thought would understand. I grabbed my phone and flicked through my twitter, ignoring the usual banal comments from fans.

To my surprise, a tweet from Harry_Styles was the first one of my news feed, listing only about ten minutes ago.

 

@harry_styles

10 mins ago via iPhone

going to holmes chpl goodto go home @gem.styles be soon :)

 

“Is he _crazy_?” I demanded, shoving the phone in Niall’s face, “It’s _him_ , no bloody wonder!” Niall held the shaking phone still so he could read it. He sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Lucky I was short enough for him to do that.

“Just breathe, Bec,” he murmured, and I listened, gently slowing down my agitated breathing. “Simon’ll have his head on a platter.”

“Even worse than that time when Lou took us to Cabo for my birthday weekend?” I asked softly. He laughed.

“Yeah. Even worse.” The doors slid open and I felt myself feeling fleetingly suffocated by the low ceiling of the underground car park, but the sight of Harry standing, leaning against his Audi was enough.

“Harry Styles!” I yelped angrily, storming across the concrete ground, my flats making sharp sounds against it. “You! Fucking! Idiot!” I resounded every syllable with a punch, as he held up his arms in meek defense.

“What are you- Bec! Calm down!” he cried, trying to fend me off without just pushing me off him. “Jesus, Niall get her off me!”

“You kinda deserve it mate,” chuckled Niall from behind me as he walked up.

“You’re bloody right he deserves it,” I growled, pointing up towards the ceiling, “What looks like every tabloid in the UK is upstairs, all waiting for me to come down and go back to Holmes Chapel with you!”

“I’m sorry!” he gasped, his arms waving around desperately as I landed a solid strike in his shoulder, “Fuck! Bec, just let me take it in, alright?”

“Take it in!” I said, laughing derisively, “I had no time to _take it in_ when those elevator doors opened and they were pressed up like squashed sultanas against those glass walls!”

“How did they know?” I shoved my phone into his shirt.

“Twitter,” I spat, “Did you clearly forget that the entire _world_ knows what you’re doing every time you tweet it? And where you _live_ as well?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, checking my twitter.

“ _What_?”

“I’m sorry,” he said slightly louder, looking at me. “I really am, Bec.” I eyed him suspiciously before glancing over my shoulder back at Niall. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Should I forgive him?”

“Nah,” he said, after a moment of thought and I heard Harry groan behind him. “Let him linger in the guilt for a while more. You have leverage now.”

“Yeah,” said Haz, shooting him a glare, “Yeah, thanks for that, mate.”

“Get in the car,” I said sharply, shoving him off the passenger door. He stumbled over, unfolding his arms. “Get in the car, Styles!”

“I’m getting in!” he shot back, running around the front and opening the driver door. “Holy fuck, Lowthorne.” Niall opened up the trunk and dumped my bag in the back, dusting off his hands.

“Bye Niall,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him tightly against me. “I’ll you see you soon, eh?”

“Yeah, you do that,” he chuckled, pulling away slightly and his hand which had been resting on my back, gently tangled in my hair. Well. “Don’t ride Harry too hard for it then, alright?” Those eyes were completely hypnotising. He could have asked me to get down and lick the floor and I would have done it.

“Kay,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll try not to be sucked in by barmy countrymen.”

“You better come back in one piece,” he warned, with a chuckle. “Promise me _that_ at least.” I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I pressed my forehead against his and smiled.

The sound of the car horn made us jump. Furious, I rounded on the car.

“Some balls you have!” I yelled, having half a mind to land a solid kick in the bumper. But then, I had been desperate to have a ride in this car since the day he had bought it. I wrenched the front passenger seat door open and leaned down, glaring at him.

He merely smirked in reply, so I leant back and waved to Niall.

“See you, Bec,” he said, waving as he headed towards the elevator.

“See you, Irish boy,” I called after him, and he looked up, his eyes wide for a second, before he burst out laughing. He walked away, shaking his head, muttering to himself.

I climbed inside, and I settled in and closed the door, the sense of luxury enveloped me.

“God.”

“Does the fact that I let you get in this car enough to make it up to you?” he asked, shooting me an adorably hopeful grin. I folded my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes.

“Not even close,” I replied staunchly and he frowned.

“Well,” he sighed, pulling the car into gear, “I’ll just have to find a way to make it up to you, won’t I?”

“Oh you will,” I said confidently and he chortled, “And I will be a total bitch for the rest of the day, so you’ll have to deal with that too.”

“That I’m used to,” he shot back, as the car pulled up at the exit. He looked left then right, and then left again for a break in traffic. What could I say to that? He looked intensely satisfied with himself, so I kicked off my shoes and put my feet up on the dashboard.

“Are you used to that?” I demanded and his mouth straightened into a firm line. I reached over and fumbled around his front.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he choked, squirming around in his seat like he had ants in his pants. At last I found it, tucked in the inside of his blazer. I pulled out his phone, leaning back, happy with my find.

I opened up his twitter, which he apparently saw no use in signing out every time he used it. I hit a few buttons and pressed TWEET. I tossed it back into his lap.

“What did you do?” he demanded, not taking his eyes off the road.

Well at least he had decent driving etiquette compared to Louis, who probably would have just picked the phone out with both hands and ended up rear-ending a truck. Then again, most people had better driving etiquette than Louis.

“Nothing,” I said sweetly. When we finally hit a traffic light, he scooped up his phone and flicked through it, searching for what I had done.

“Bec, seriously!” he said, “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” I laughed, “Jeez Harry, I think you just got 50+ retweets.” He groaned, just as the car blared their horn behind us. He jumped and hit the accelerator sharply. He looked so unhinged, I couldn’t help but laugh.

 

@harry_styles

2 mins ago via iPhone

i think i’m pretty. out to buy tampons! gosh i love @louis_tomlinson.

 

***

 

By the time we pulled over for lunch at a small restaurant on the outskirts of Birmingham, I felt like things were finally back to normal between us. Lots of snipes, smirking and jokes at each other’s expense. We had driven through four tolls, and finally left what appeared to be the main outstretches of urban London.

We ordered fish and chips, just because I had a craving for them and I made him anyway. We sat on the front of the hood on his priceless Audi, which he surprisingly didn’t even mind. Or maybe, he was still trying to make it up to me.

“So,” I said, chomping on a tartared-chip, leaning over his shoulder, “Where are we now, GPS?”

“Actually we’re in Brummy,” Haz replied, looking around, “Pretty close to Wolverhampton.”

“Liam’s town?”

“That’s right. I’d say an hour and a half more at the most,” he concluded, biting a battered fish piece off the end of his plastic fork. He squinted at his map.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered, leaning back on my elbows, “Three and half hours to drive from one side of your country to the other.”

“Well how long would I take back home in _Australia?_ ” he inquired, turning around and placing his foot on the grill of the car, still squinting in the bleak muggy light of day.

“Oh,” I scoffed, “Easily two days. At the least.”

“Two days?” he repeated incredulously, “No wonder no one wants to road trip across _your_ country. Or maybe it’s the lack of vegetation.” I nearly upset the box of fish and chips in my lap as I reached over and smacked his shoulder.

He sniggered, rubbing my shoulder, apparently becoming gradually more resistant to my physical abuse.

There was a brief lapse in conversation, as I happily stuffed my face with food. He had decided it was best to pull over for a lunch break when my hands started shaking.

“Haz?” I asked shuffling on the hood, “What if your family doesn’t like me?” He grinned, brushing off his hands and launching himself onto the hood beside me. He snuggled around before finding a comfortable position on it. “You done there?”

“Finally,” he sighed, ignoring me, “A topic you’ve been meaning to get off your chest.” Well, to be honest, there were _several_ other things I’d been meaning to get off my…

“Whatever,” I said dismissively, “Say it was.”

“It was,” he said nodding, “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve never brought home any girls to my family except the ones from high school.”

“That’s supposed to cheer me up?” I demanded, feeling even worse than before.

“Well yeah,” he said with a casual shrug, “My family will absolutely no expectations, so you can set the bar as low as you want, and they won’t care. Plus, you’re not even my girlfriend, you’re just a friend.” Gulp.

“Yeah,” I said firmly, “But that’s not great is it? I’m not good with meeting new people.”

“Don’t be daft,” he muttered, flicking the hair out of his eyes, “You were perfectly fine when you met us, weren’t you? And we were international superstars.”

“Humble,” I muttered back, rolling my eyes. He grinned at me. “But it was different with you guys. I mean, Liam and Zayn were friendly so I was OK. Louis was just a bitch because he didn’t like me, and you! You were completely insufferable.”

“Thanks,” he shot back grimly, “But you were- don’t bring that up! Not my proudest moment.”

“What, preying on an innocent sixteen year old fan?”

“You’re still seventeen, don’t get too cocky,” he laughed, “And I did not _prey_. Jeez Bec, that makes me sound like a lusting predator.”

“You are.”

“Sod off!”

“And god, you’re so _British_!” I chortled and he wrestled with me momentarily, just there on the hood of his car. His hands were all over me; but not even in that way. We scuffled before a stifled shriek made us stop.

“Oh my god, that’s not-oh my god Vicky, I think it is!” whispered a blonde girl, with her hair up in a ponytail. She was hovering by the restaurant, food in hand, hissing at her friend beside her. Both of them were probably a year or two younger than me.

I sat up abruptly and shoved Harry off me. He toppled over and tumbled off the hood, his feet hitting the gravelled ground.

“They’re fans,” I said through gritted teeth, as they began to approach cautiously. I felt his hand on mine.

“Jeez Bec, calm down,” he warned in a low voice, before saying brightly, “Hi there girls!”

“Hi!” they exclaimed in unison, “Oh my god, it’s really…”

“Harry Styles?” I finished, “Yes it is. Would you guys like photos with him?” Normally, the question would have tumbled from my lips full of sarcasm and venom, but I found myself sounding quite genuine.

“Yes please,” said the blonde one, handing me her phone, “Thank you so much.”

“So what are your names?” asked Haz as they exchanged small talk. He was good with fans.

They posed for the photo, the two of them with Harry in the middle, broad smiles on all their faces. Part of me was a little happy for them. Just a little. As I handed back the blonde her camera, I could tell she had recognised me.

“You,” she said slowly, “I _know_ you! Oh, of course, you’re Bec Lowthorne!”

“Yep, that’s me,” I said, with a small nervous smile, “You a Directioner, then?”

“For life!” her friend trilled. “You’re living every girl’s dream!”

“What?” I asked, slightly confused. “I just sort of assumed you all hated me. I mean, if I was you, I would hate me.”

The two of them laughed like it was the most hilarious thing they’d heard all day. Brummy must be a terribly boring place.

“She’s funny, isn’t she?” asked Harry with a lopsided smile, wrapping an arm around my neck and planting a kiss on my temple. The two squealed instantly. Wow, they were like a portable sound effect system.

“Get off me,” I mumbled, trying to push him away half-heartedly.

“You two are adorable, just saying,” blurted the other girl, and the blonde one nudged her in the ribs with a frown on her face.

“Vicky,” she said in an offended tone, “Don’t say that! Harry’s going out with Emma Ostilly, remember?”

“Oh,” said Vicky, blushing, “I’m…I’m sorry. You two are just so-”

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, “People get the wrong idea about us sometimes.” I took Haz’s momentary distraction to shove him off. “The completely wrong idea.”

“You two are just friends then?”

“Definitely.”

“But didn’t you guys have a fling or something? That’s what I heard anyway,” said the blonde one veraciously.

“No, no fling,” I said casually and Harry rolled his eyes. I ignored him.

“But you two are so close. And you went out with Niall.”

Oh yes, somehow Niall was always brought back into this mess somehow, despite my obvious efforts to disentangle him from it all.

“Only for a bit. We’re still friends now.”

“Oh, they’re great friends,” supplied Harry, shooting me a smirk, “Always you know, casually getting their hands tangled in each other’s hair, and pressing foreheads, and all that-”

“One more word I swear!” I cried loudly, turning on him, “Shut up!”

“Nice meeting you girls,” he said with a grin, waving as they bid us goodbye. “Gosh, no wonder not many people like you.”

“It’s a gift.”

“No doubt it’s talent, right there,” he added, standing infront of me, hands in his pockets. He looked at me through his eyelashes. What the _hell_ did he think he was…oh wow; those eyes were bright today, weren’t they? I blinked feebly.

With one knee, he nudged my legs open slightly and stood between them, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Oh Bec,” he murmured, placing his chin in the crook of my neck where it rested rather comfortably. “You make me…” I closed my eyes at the low hum of his voice. I could deny it all I want, but he had a lovely voice. Well, maybe _lovely_ wasn’t the correct word for it. Seductive. Enticing. Hypnotising.

“I make you _what_ Haz?” I said snappishly and he chortled in my ear, pulling away but still remaining in the same place.

“Sick,” he finished, “You make me terribly, _terribly_ sick.”

“Thank you,” I shot back tersely, drawing my legs up and rolling off his hood, “I’m finished, let’s get going then, eh?”

“Right, right,” he said gruffly, “Wait a sec.” I watched as he fumbled around in his blazer and pulled out his phone. He flicked through it.

“Any interesting replies?” I asked lightly and he shot me a look.

“Oh many,” he said snarkily, holding his phone up abruptly. “Smile!”

“Wha- Haz!” I barked, my mouth falling open. He laughed and darted inside the car. “You little shit!”

I flung the door open and scrambled inside, attempting to grab his phone from him. He held it out of my reach as I scrabbled desperately for it.

“Don’t you _dare_!”

“Sent!” he yelled, “Revenge!”

“You did _what_?” I cried, sitting back reserved in my seat.

“Millions of twitter followers will revel in your beauty,” he cooed, leaning over and squishing my cheeks together. I pulled away.

“You dick. You complete and utter _dick._ ”

“I love you too, Bec,” he chuckled, pulling the car in reverse, a smirk on his handsome face, “Not to say that those-”

BANG.

The sound of crunching metal and breaking glass was the first thing to hit me apart from the fierce jolt that made us both lurch forward violently. Then it was the sight of Harry’s face- completely lost for words. He was gaping in the rear view mirror, apparently still trying to register the fact that his gorgeous new Audi had just been rear-ended.

I was split whether to feel sympathetic, or to burst out laughing. A snort escaped me, so I gave in.

“It’s not-” he began angrily, but he threw the door open before he could finish and stormed away. Sighing, but clutching my mid-section from the hard core laughing I had achieved, I resigned to crawl out myself and review the damage.

Harry looked absolutely torn between devastated and furious.

The back of his Audi was bent completely inwards, the lights smashed, and the back hood crunched up like paper. Smoke was rising from the bumper. He kept running his hands through his hair, looking totally despairing, as the driver of the large truck climbed out slowly.

“Don’t panic,” I advised and he gave me a stony look.

“Don’t panic?” he repeated, clearly panicking. He pointed at his previously lovely car, “How can I _not_ \- Bec, you can’t be…”

“You have insurance!” I said, before adding hesitantly, “…surely?” From the bewildered look on his face, I suppose assumptions weren’t the best way to go now.

I sighed, deciding maybe I’d been torturing him long enough. I wrapped my arms around his waist gently and hugged him. At the current time, this was as close to empathy as I could get.

“Cor,” I whispered against his chest. His hands rested on the small of my back and I heard him exhale deeply. “You believe in karma, Styles?”

Haz made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat.


	19. Your Song

_Present Day  
mid February, 2013_

 

   “and then what, he just… _bang_?”

   “Yep,” I laughed, “Just like that.”

   “Jeez, and you reckon that _I’ve_ got shitty driving skills,” chortled Louis, and I saw a flash of blonde hair dart in and out the view of the camera. “Oh Ni- come here, Bec’s on.”

   “Oh,” I heard him say and his face abruptly filled my Skype screen. I laughed. “Hey there, Bec!”

   “Hi Niall!” I said loudly, waving back at him through the webcam.

   “How’s le modest Holmes Chapel?”

   “Absolutely _hailing_ the return of their international success story,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “You should have seen his welcome. Banner, balloons, streams, cheering crowds, all that.”

   “What chu doing?” asked Harry, spontaneously entering the room, holding a box of Chinese takeaway. He plopped down next to me on the bed, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “Oh, Skyping are we?”

   “Yes we are,” I said, shuffling over, “Just telling the boys about our driving adventure.”

   “Oh shut up,” he muttered nudging me with his shoulder, “Can’t help but rub it in, can you?”

   “I haven’t even gotten to the best part!” I said, snatching the takeaway box from him. “Now that he’s got no means of transport, he’s gotta drive around a grandma van for the rest of the week.”

   “You’re full of spite all up in there,” he sniped back, trying to tug the box of food back off me, in obvious futile attempts. He tapped me on the side of the head. “But it’s fair enough, I suppose. My family loves you, which is if possible, even more strange.”

   “What are you even _talking_ about?” I demanded. He smirked at me.

   “So the meeting went well?” inquired Louis, “No awkward childhood stories that sent you running for the hills?”

   “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head, “Actually, Anne’s a massive sweetie. I think she pities me a little, too.”

   “Now that she’s got most of the family running through the house constantly, she decided its best that you should meet the extended family too,” he added, rolling his eyes. “She wants to take you to meet my gramaw tomorrow night.”

   “Your _what_?” I choked on his food. I coughed feebly a few times.

   “My gramaw,” he said, attempting to appear casual, but the apples of his cheek were turning slightly pink, the way they did right before he started blushing. “She’s going a little senile, but relatively sane, either way.”

   “Nice to know its runs in the family,” I teased, turning my attention back to Skype. “Who knows? Maybe if you marry a half-sane girl like Emma, then your children might not turn out to be sociopaths.”

   “Yeah, yeah, something about marriage,” he said dismissively, apparently too young and carefree to give a crap about anything to do with the not so near future. “Did Simon call you guys up, or anything?”

   “Have you not checked your phone?” demanded Liam, immediately popping up out of nowhere. Well, it looked like a party _now_. “He’s been calling us then you, then back to us again. He’s going to fry you, Hazza.”

   “Because I thought I’d let fans know I’m going home?”

   “Actually, I’m surprised you two were mobbed on the way there.”

   “Oh we were,” I assured, and Haz scoffed beside me.

   “By two fans. _Two_. Simon can go shove it up where he wants,” he muttered darkly. “Ah well. Don’t you have somewhere to be, Liam? Like twitcam or twitter to defend that girlfriend of yours from a tongue lashing?”

   “Haz!” I said sharply, punching in the shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

   “Neither are you.” Well, someone was in a strange mood. He chuckled and I rolled my eyes.

   “How can I even _try_ arguing with you, Haz?”

   “About what, Liam?”

   “And Danielle.”

   “It’s true!”

   “No it’s not,” I shot back sternly, “She can actually stand up for herself. She’s independent, or is that idea far too feministic for you to handle?”

   “Feminism,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “It’s so banal.” I shot up, shoving the box of food back in his chest and storming out of the room. That little prick.

   I strode down the stairs, hugging my pyjamas tighter around me. I could hear the television in the living room, but not wanting to disturb Anne, I quietly crept to the front door and slipped outside.

   It must have rained, because everything smelt like dew and fresh earth. My numbing feet shuffled into my shoes as I clung tighter to myself and walked out into their garden.

   In his house, I felt like I had to be someone who was always…well, constant. But that wasn’t me. I changed every day. Not many people knew that. Harry knew that. His family were so ordinary, that I was relieved when I had met them. After the usual pleasantries, Anne suggested that Gemma should take me out for the rest of the afternoon to the local shops. I agreed, knowing that Haz would probably want some alone time with his mum anyway.

   Gemma was nice to me, but seemed a little stiff as well. Her words were always straight, and plain. Her face showed little emotion. It’s a habit, I don’t like being disliked for no reason.

   “So,” I sighed, after we emerged from one shop and moved towards the next, “What’s your beef, then?”

   “Sorry?” she asked, startled.

   “Your beef,” I repeated, before realising that ‘beef’ probably wasn’t English slang. “Do you have a problem with me, or something? I just get the feeling you don’t particularly…like me.”

   She blinked at me, and for a moment, I saw that fleeting flash of resemblance between her and her brother. We stopped outside a boutique shop, and instead she started guiding me away.

   “Maybe we should talk.”

   Oh wow, the times I had heard that line from the Styles gene pool.

   We sat down outside a café, and ordered a few drinks and afternoon tea. Despite being all the way across England, there was still a strong sense of community here. It was pleasant. As our drinks arrived, Gemma finally addressed the topic again.

   “I do like you,” she said slowly, pausing for a while, “I do. You’re a nice girl, Bec.”

   But? What’s the but? I could tell that there was going to be a but. Instead, she did a nice job of dodging around it for a bit longer.

   “You make him happy, eh? You two are like best friends, he always brings you up when he calls home,” she said, taking a sip from her cup. I gently picked up my spoon and started shovelling the whipped cream in my mouth unceremoniously.

   “Does he call home often, then?”

   “Once, twice a week if he has time,” Gemma admitted, “Mum doesn’t like not hearing from him. That’s why she can’t stand it when they go on tour.” We drank in silence for a bit, before she set her cup down and looked directly at me. “Bec, he never told me what happened between…all I know-”

   “What _do_ you know then, Gemma?” I asked, eyeing her beadily.

   “All I know was that it wasn’t…smooth,” she said carefully, “Or particularly the normal way I’d expect to meet a guy.”

   “That,” I laughed humourlessly, “Yeah, well he’s got a point with that.”

   “Mum doesn’t know anything.”

   “Good,” I said tersely, “I don’t think she’d like me very much if she did. Not that I’m gonna…lie to her, but I don’t want it to change the way that she thinks of me.”

   “And me?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow. I sighed, furrowing mine together. “Can you tell me?”

   “It’s pretty predictable, actually.”

   “What, met on tour, fell in love but then he left and you came back to London, so now you’re seeing other people and have that overrated ‘just friends’ label?” she blurted. Wow. The movies this one must watch.

   “I wish,” I laughed, “That it was that simple.”

   “Simple?” she repeated incredulously.

   “It’s anything but,” I said, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips, “It’s just all…complications, and stuff. I don’t like to think about it, the past. All those things that happened; there’s so much wrapped up in it that I’ve just ignored, hoping it’ll just disappear.”

   “Do you forget about it a lot, then? Does it go…away?”

   “No,” I said firmly, shaking my head, for that was one thing I knew completely for sure. “No, it never does.” I looked at her, and she was surveying me rather uncertainly. “Sorry. Off topic. Your beef?”

   “I don’t have any beef, whatever it means,” she said, with a slight defensive scowl. She was more alike her brother than I realised. “I was just saying, you’re very nice. But so were a few more that Harry’s brought home before.”

   “How…how many has he taken home before?” I asked, my mouth feeling a little dry. She shrugged in reply.

   “Three. Four,” she replied, “Not too many. They’re all like you, nice and all.”

   “So you doubt I’m a genuinely nice person?” Smart girl.

   “I didn’t say that,” she said, shaking her head. “But…I just don’t really trust you. Not with Harry anyway.” I was slightly confused.

   “You don’t trust me? With Haz?”

   “That’s the thing,” she said, looking at me firmly, “You’re different. And so is he. He’s…he’s totally…” She trailed off, and bit her lip.

   “He’s dating another girl,” I said flatly.

   “I know,” she replied. Her eyes were a lighter colour than his. “But…you’re his friend. You know him. It’s not entirely beneath him to go ahead and try to use somebody for their own means.”

   She trailed off, leaving me completely stumped. I had no idea what she meant, nor was I much curious to find out either.

   I was also an unbelievable introvert; I always had to take a specific time to myself. Haz accepted that too, to a certain point. Other times, he couldn’t care less and just barged right in.

   The sound of a crunch of leaves behind me made me start slightly and I whirled around. He stood there, still holding his box of food, wearing rubber sandals, evidently self-conscious.

   “Did I go too far?” he asked quietly, looking a little sheepish. “I thought I might have gone too far. I get the gist I went too far. You left me food.”

   “You,” I laughed lightly, shaking my head as I approached him. “No, you didn’t. I swear. I just needed a little space then, you know?”

   “Sure,” he said, quite obviously not sure. “So you’re not upset at me?” I stayed quiet, thinking for a moment. I craned my neck to stare up at the wide sky. Even in suburban Holmes Chapel, the night sky was limited. It wasn’t like on the filming of the Great Escape, where it was just endless stars and velvet hues.

   No campfires here, Bec.

   I sighed, tucking my hands under my arms for warmth.

   “Bec?”

   “Hmm? Sorry?” I said, snapping to attention. He was smiling at me. “What?”

   “You’re such a dreamer,” he said, looping his arm around me and squashing me against his chest. I let out a squeak of protest, but hardly resisted. “You’re going to bed soon? It’s getting late.”

   “Yeah,” I said, nodding slowly, disentangling myself from him, “I will. Wouldn’t want to be tired tomorrow, with all those important family meetings.” I smirked, but he merely tutted at me.

   “Respect,” he advised, poking my nose as I scrunched up my face. “Here, take the rest of the food.” He handed the box to me, but I turned it away. He stared at me.

   “It’s late!” I said defensively, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not hungry. Plus if I eat it, I won’t be coming to bed any time soon.”

   “Coming?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow. I nearly kicked myself.

   “Going,” I corrected hastily, dropping my eyes and staring at my feet, trying to stop the blush from rising to my cheeks. “Going to bed.”

   “Aww sweety,” he cooed, reaching out and running his hand over my hair. I burst out laughing. It almost reminded me of back when he used to do that all the time- back when… “What?”

   “Nothing,” I gasped, rubbing my eyes wearily, “Nothing Haz. Go to bed.”

   “Don’t you mean _come to bed_?” he corrected in an innocent tone. I pulled off my sandal and threw it at him.

   “Go away!” I howled as he held his arm up and rebounded off it, as he guffawed. “You’re not forgiven, Harry Styles.”

   “Well, I know I’ve gone too far when you use my full name,” he said seriously, approaching me and wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. I could feel his warm breath down my neck, and I nearly shivered involuntarily. He really needed to stop doing that.

   I looked up at the sky again, enjoying how warm he felt, compared to the cold air of the night.

   “Tell me truthfully,” he said quietly into my ear, resting his chin in the crook of my neck, “Would you rather just stay here forever, or go back to your life if you hadn’t met us?”

   “What?” I asked, craning my neck around and glancing at him over my shoulder. His eyes were curious. “Where did that come from?” He shrugged, eyes tearing away from mine and gazing blankly into the distance.

   “I just wanted to know.” I guess he missed any memories of his old normal life. Maybe I was all left of vaguely normal he had. The thought made me scoff. _Normal_? _Really_?

   “If I could choose all this,” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair falling across my face as the wind whipped against me. “Or all that stuff back Sydney, I guess…well, it’s not really much of a choice.”

   He looked up at me again, and I looked down on him, mouth slightly ajar. For that moment, neither of us breathed. It was just us two, standing alone under the stars. God, I wanted to…

   Another strand of hair fell across my face as the wind blew gently again. He reached up with one hand, fingertips trailing across my cheek, as he tucked it behind my ear. Breathe. Yet, how could I? Not when he could these things to me with just a simple touch. And those insightful, watchful eyes.

   “I…” I felt my words choke up, and I tore my eyes away, looking straight ahead. “Of course I’d stay here. I wouldn’t change…anything.” Not him or any of the boys, not my life here, or those stupid episodes we had. I’d do it all over again.

   “Good,” he murmured in his slow voice, “It won’t.”

    I could feel his lips coming closer, because his breath was warmer and faster next to my ear. My eyes were fluttering closed, as if to let him do it; to allow him to. At the last second, my eyes flew open and I squirmed in his arms, wrenching them off me, and stumbling away just as he leaned forward to…I don’t even know what he would have done if I had just stood there.

   He blinked, his face immediately closed off the way it did when he was upset; of one thing or another.

   I knew well, another touch from those hands, or another whisper in my ear and I would have snapped. I would have let him; or worse, turned around and instigated it myself. I had to face it; around him I was just another girl who was helpless in his charms. I was weak. No wonder nothing lasted with him.

   “You…” he said slowly, and I looked up at him expectantly, suddenly aware of the chilly silence between us. “You’re my…well- Kryptonite.”

   “ _Sorry_?” I blurted, not sure if I heard him quite right. He blinked, as if trying to register what he had said himself. A gradual blush was beginning to reach his cheeks, but then turned around and walked back towards the house.

   “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, heading ducked, and this time I definitely heard him. I stood there, watching him walk up the steps and slam the front door behind him abruptly. The wind whipped through my hair; I could feel it through my pyjamas, through my bones.

   Inexplicable anger surged through me, and I had an overwhelming desire to jump up and kick something over; to throw a massive childish tantrum in his front yard which was probably visible from his parents’ living room. I wanted to pound the ground with my fist and stomp on the ground and yell. Something about that just set me off.

   Instead, I stood there, fists clenched by my side, grinding my teeth furiously. I didn’t know what to do about him, because to start with, I clearly had no bloody idea what to do with myself.

 

***

 

   I sat up in my bed, a little dazed at first. When I first had peeled my eyelids back, I was suddenly in an unfamiliar environment; red curtains making the entire room in a pink-to-red hue, a firmer bed than I was used to, and someone’s head resting near my feet.

   I let out a shriek, drawing my legs up and clinging onto them like a life line as the head moved, abruptly followed by a gruff bark. A good lord, it was just a dog. Letting out a puff of relief, I climbed out of the bed carefully and examined the creature closer. It raised its head from the sheets and I drew back in surprise.

   A pug. I didn’t know they had a pug. It made a face at me, or maybe that was just how its face looked normally, and gave a gruff bark again. I scooped my cardigan off the bed and threw it on, pulling a face back at it. It got to its short legs and scuttled off the bed onto the wooden floor, before running in a circle at my feet, staring up at me with its squashed face. Sighing, I walked over to the door and pulled it open; and the pug rushed past me and waddled down the hallway at a surprisingly fast speed for something so fat.

   Rubbing my eyes, I walked down the stairs. For once, I didn’t hear the rush of busy streets and constant people; instead, I was greeted by the sound of birds chirping and quiet chatter.

   “Morning there, Bec,” said Anne as I yawned widely, walking into the dining area. “How did you sleep?”

   “Great thanks,” I said, smiling at her tiredly. “I slept surprisingly well.” Ha. You’re a funny one. I had about as much sleep last night as I had peace of mind.

   “That’s good,” she said, “Would you like a hot drink? Breakfast?” She was too nice.

   “No, thanks so much though,” I said, “You’re so accommodating, Anne. I think I might go for a walk around town, and get breakfast there.”

   “Are you sure?” she asked, looking concerned.

   “Of course,” I said, “It’ll be nice to explore a little, I haven’t had much time. And I don’t want to get in your way either.”

   “Not at all,” she said graciously, taking her cup to the sink. “Would you like to call Harry down? He has a bad habit of sleeping in late.”

   “Oh,” I said, a bit taken aback. “I- no, I should be fine. He can catch up later if he feels like it.”

   “Bec, what are you talking about?” she laughed lightly, “He’s always in the mood to spend time with you, you’re one of his best friends.” Ridiculous. Even his _mother_ thought that? “So, should I tell him where you’re going?”

   “Just…” I said indecisively, only to notice that she was watching me quite closely. “Tell him that I’m going for a walk around town. It won’t be hard to find me.”

   “Sure thing sweety,” she said, folding up the newspaper on the countertop and handing it to me. “Oh, here’s the morning paper for you, just something to read on your way around.”

   “Thanks,” I said, taking it from her. “Anything interesting?” She shrugged.

   “Not much,” she replied, before eyeing me carefully, “Don’t forget either; we’re taking you to see Harry’s grandmother this evening. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

   “That’s right,” I said, nodding, “I’ll be back before it starts getting dark.” She waved me out the door like she was my own mother, as I set my way off, the paper tucked under my arm. I was still wearing my pyjamas, but I didn’t care much. I mean, I did it every day at my university, so I was used to the feeling now.

  The morning was crisp and cold, every breath felt like a laborious task. Reaching into my hoodie, I was thankful to find my scarf. I wrapped it around my neck and the lower half of my face, making it significantly less painful to inhale through my nose.

   Holmes Chapel was actually a very pleasant little town. Wide, mostly empty streets lined with neat houses with small front lawns and white picket fences. Little brick walls that enclosed the churches from the sidewalk, shrubs brushing out to try touch your legs when you walked past. The sky was a muggy grey that threatened to rain, but I savoured the temporary state of passing dryness.

   I drew my hood up around my head, before realising along with my interesting head scarf; I’d look like a juvenile delinquent. I pushed it back down, and unfolded the newspaper, scanning the front page for any interesting information. One article’s heading caught my attention on the fifth page.

   IRISH ONE DIRECTION MEMBER SEEN WITH MYSTERY GIRL.

   I nearly dropped the paper. There was a terrible picture; a blurry and unclear, but I could recognise that head of blonde hair anywhere. It was Niall and a dark haired girl, from the back again. Who had gotten this? God, who had _seen_ this? I flipped back to the front page. Probably millions of people got this paper. 

   My numb fingers fished around for my phone, pulling it out and finding Niall’s number. I held it up to my ear, begging him to pick up. I heard friction at the other end and gripped it tighter.

   “Hello? Niall, is that you? Hi?” Static. “ _Hello_?”

   “Bec!” That voice was like my herald. “What’s the cra-?”

   “Have you seen the paper?” I demanded, stopping in the middle of sidewalk. It would have been a problem anywhere else, apart from here, seeing as there was no one else in the street.

   “W…” his voice cut out for a bit. “Which paper?”

   “I don’t know, the daily one!” I cried, flipping the paper out in my hand again, wedging my phone between my ear and my shoulder. “Page five.”

   “Babe,” I heard him sigh, slightly exasperated. “I get about ten different newspapers every day.”

   “Well, then find the one with the article about your girlfriend in it!” Silence. And I mean complete, dead silence. It was quite alarming. “ _Niall_?”

   “What?” his voice made me jump. “Babe, you’re breaking up.”

   “I’m not breaking up!” I said, distressed. “Hold on!” I crushed the newspaper under my arm and rushed up the street, trying to find a place with better signal. I stopped, out of breath at a street intersection. Panting and doubled over, my hands on my knees, I held the phone back up to my ear. “Niall? Are you there?”

   “Bec, can you just-” he said. Silence. “Go on Skype?”

   “I’m not at Haz’s place,” I said loudly, plugging my other ear from any other noises, which was unnecessary as possible, seeing as there were no other noises whatsoever. “Hello?” This was just stupid, I thought, as I struggled to my feet and jogged a few more metres weakly.

   “BEC!” His loud voice was audible even with my phone swinging at my hip. “GET A NEW PHONE, YOUR RECEPTION…” More static. I held the phone to my mouth and yelled,

   “It’s not my fault I’m in the middle of bloody HOLMES CHAPEL!”

   “You know, maybe you should yell louder so someone in Brummy didn’t hear you.” I spun around, to see Harry leaning out of his grandma van. He looked a little disgruntled about it, but he seemed pretty satisfied with being able to smirk at me. “Morning, there.”

   “What’s this?” I snapped, hanging up on my phone. I’d call him back later. “An ice cream truck? All you’re missing is the big lights and _Greensleeves_ playing.”

   “I actually think it’s pretty classy,” he said in an offhand sort of way, as if trying to appear casual. I looked at him in reproach, with raised eyebrows. I scoffed.

   “No,” I laughed, approaching him, “You don’t.” He grumbled, making a face, with a massive frown.

   “You’re right,” he admitted, leaning further out the window. “I don’t.” He smacked the side of the van with his hand. “Come on, get in. God, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

   “Loser,” I chuckled, leaning up and ruffling his hair with my hand. It seemed as though we were both too exhausted and not bothered to care about the awkward situation from last night. He batted my hand away, obviously too affectionate about his hair.

   “Enough,” he said with a vaguely abashed scowl. He stuck his thumb towards the back. “It’s too early for anything, much less driving. Hurry up, I’m off to escort you to breakfast.”

   “I’m not getting in the back,” I huffed, walking around the front and climbing into the passenger seat. “What am I? An abduction victim?”

   “Are you implying that I’m the abductor?”

   “No,” I smirked, facing ahead and snuggling into the old seat. “I’m saying it.”

   “What a bitch,” he smirked and I snickered, kicking my feet up on the dashboard again.

   “I bet you’re trafficking a couple of exploited workers from Indonesia back there,” I mumbled. I snuck a glance at him to see that funny expression on his face again, and I was right to assume; as he dived on me, hands tickling as usual. Squirming, desperate not to show I was actually enjoying it, I tried to shove him off. “Stop it- no, HAZ!”

   “BEC!” he yelled back at me, still unrelenting.

   “It’s…not…funny!” I spat out, torn between angry and humoured. “GET OFF!” I shoved him off me, out of breath. I flicked my hair out of my face and glared at him. “You know. I hate you.”

   “No, you love me,” he chuckled, and I held my finger up warningly as he pulled the van into gear.

   “Careful, Stylie,” I advised, “Last time you started saying something like that, your beautiful car was rear-ended. Though looking at this thing, I’d say it’s pretty difficult for a downgrade.”

   “Enough from you,” he muttered, reaching over with his other hand and batting my head, though his eyes were fixed on the road so they missed and landed in my hair instead.

   “Harry!” I said snappishly but he laughed, his hands mussing up my hair before trailing down my arm and eventually resting on my hand. He held it tightly, eyes still staring straight ahead. Immediately, the tension was back again.

   He didn’t say a word, but his mouth was set in a firm line like he was ready to fight me and be stubborn.

   I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened.

   “Haz, stop it…”

   “Stop what, Bec?” he asked. He was picking a fight here. I swallowed.

   “You know what,” I replied sharply, trying to tug my hand away again, “Please d…”

   “Tell me what you want, then.”

   “Just stop…st, don’t-”

   “Mm?”

   I squeezed my eyes shut, hating myself almost as much as him. I yanked my hand away from his, and his hand fell to my thigh, which was if possible, even worse. He braked excessively and turned his stare to me, not speaking but his eyes doing the job for him.

   “What is your problem?” I demanded, feeling the urge to defend myself. “Do you realise what you’re doing?”

   “I know what it means,” he answered, with a hint of a smirk. “And you?”

   “W- yes!” I spluttered angrily, “And get your hand off my thigh!”

   “I don’t think you want me to.”

   “I think I do,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes. “I mean it, Harry.”

   “You don’t,” he replied dismissively, as he leaned closer towards me. I tried to move away far as possible, but I found myself trapped between him and the car door. “Do you, Bec?”

   “You stay away from me, Haz,” I whispered, turning my head away, but his other hand was moving to my face. It reached out and touched my shoulder, before trailing to the nape of my neck, where rested the snowflake necklace that he had given to me for my birthday. I never told him. I wore it every single day.

   I had just seen the wonder begin to register on his face when I pushed him away, hard. It must have caught him off guard, because he leant back to buffer the hit.

   “You have absolutely no respect for me,” I snarled, far too angry to be worried about his current state. I shoved the door open and hopped out, slamming it back behind me. “Are people just disposable to you? What about your bloody _girlfriend_ , Haz?”

   I stormed away, not caring that my head scarf had completely unravelled and the morning paper was still lying crumpled in my curled up fist.

  

***

 

   I made it back to Harry Styles’ house at quarter to seven. Dusk had faded to be replaced by twilight. I was still wearing my pyjamas, and had happily comfort ate my way through the day. Munching on a juicy apple Danish, I trudged up the steps towards his house, chewing aggressively, hood drawn up over my head.

   The door flew open and Gemma jogged out to meet me.

   “Bec! Where have you been?” she asked, looking aghast. “Mum sent Harry out looking for you.” I shoved the last piece of pastry in my mouth and dusted my hands off casually.

   “No need,” I said, sending bits of pastry flying from my mouth. I swallowed. “He found me.”

   “Where is he?” she asked, looking around, but I waved my hand at her.

   “No, no,” I said, shaking my head, “Not here; or at least I don’t think. He found me earlier today, I mean. Damn.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “I dunno,” I shrugged, feeling light headed and wondering why she was asking me so many questions. “He has a new van, you know?”

   “Are you OK?” she said, looking slightly concerned, one hand steadying me on my shoulder. “Wait Bec, are you…you drunk?”

   “No!” I cried, looking up at her, “Wh- I’m not _drunk_! You had obviously never _seen_ a proper drunk before. They’re loud, or sad, or crazy. Or like me, guess what I do when _I_ drink? I sleep with random guys I thought I hated! ”

   “Bec,” she said slowly as I stumbled slightly.

   “Alright, I had a drink,” I sighed, squinting and holding one of my hands up to show how much. “Just…a small one.”

   “Did you go to the pub?”

   “Wh- no I didn’t go to the bloody pub!” I snapped irritably, “Where’s Harry? We’re supposed to be meeting his gramaw. Did you know he still calls her his gramaw? Is that a thing with English people? Or that just Haz, you know? There are lots of things I thought all English people did, before I realised that it’s just him.”

   “You’re rambling,” she muttered, guiding me back to the house. I heard the screech of old tires in their driveway and I groaned inwardly.

   “Make him leave,” I said under my breath, knowing well it was too quiet for Gemma to hear.

   “Gem!” I heard him yell across the front yard, followed by the sound of the car door slamming. “Is she alright?”

   “She’s fine,” Gemma said, before adding quietly, “She’s a little-”

   “I’m not anything!” I howled at her, and I felt his hand on my shoulder. “No!” I staggered back, my hood slipping off. I turned to face him, the shock on his face probably from the dishevelled hair and angry red face. “No, Harry!”

   “What happened?” asked Gemma, looking like she didn’t know what else to say, “S-seriously you guys, I don’t know _what_ to think, she turns up here after hours of going missing, you turn up and you’re both _shouting…_ ”

   “Ask him!” I spat, jabbing my finger in his direction. He merely looked at me warily, with a small frown on his dimpled cheeks. “What did I _tell_ you? Don’t look at me like that!”

   “Like what?” said Gemma, “What on earth is going on here?”

   “You’re not bringing that up again, are you?” he asked quietly, which pissed me off even more. “All that…”

   “Harry,” I tutted edgily, “You can’t even bloody keep it in your pants, can you? Not even when you say you’re with one girl.”

   “Haz?” squeaked Gemma, her jaw dropping, “What is she talking about? Will one of you with the balls just answer me _straight_?” He was still staring dead pan at me. Those eyes were meant to make me weak at the knees. I couldn’t say that they didn’t.

   “What if,” he said, “What if the girl isn’t the one…?”

   “Then it’s not my fucking problem!” I yelled, “I’m sorry, but since when have I given you the impression that I even _cared_?” A flush was rising to his face steadily. “Don’t dump it on me, Haz!”

   “I’m not dumping anything on you,” he said in a low voice, narrowing his eyes.

   “Well, thanks to you I spent the entire day wandering around lovely Holmes Chapel by myself.”

  1.    “And she’s drunk.”   



   “Wh- have you been _drinking_?” he said, looking shocked. Tears welled unexpectedly to my eyes.

   “Yes! OK, I did!” I blurted, frustrated, rubbing at them furiously, “I _know_ I’m totally pathetic, and that I drink when I’m angry or confused or…or- anything really. But guess what? I don’t care!”

   “Bec, just go inside,” he said calmly.

   “No!” I screeched, “You’re not gonna bloody tell me what to do Harry Styles!”

   “I’m not trying to, I w-” he began angrily, but the balcony light flickered on and the three of us froze, looking up at the front door. Anne was standing there, arms folded over her chest, looking extremely disapproving.

   “What is going on out here?” she demanded, walking down the steps and staring at us beadily. “Why am I hearing yelling?”

   “Bec’s the one who’s yelling,” muttered Haz and I shoved him aggressively.

   “You wanna fight?” I shouted, holding my hands up, “You wanna _fight_ me, dickhead?”

   “Bec, that’s uncalled for,” Anne said firmly, but he was obviously spurred on by my insult, because he stepped forward and snarled,

   “I’d fight you _any_ day.”

   “No, that’s enough!” said Anne, her voice brimming with finality. She pointed back towards the house. “Bec, go inside please, clean yourself up. Gemma, go help her. Harry, you have to some explaining to do.”

   “Why me?” he demanded furiously, but she held her finger up with an intense glare.

   “Don’t push me,” she warned, “I don’t know what this is, but we’re going to visit your grandmother, so you all just have to keep the drama to yourselves, you understand?”

   “Oh, I can’t do that,” I said with a mild hiccup. She looked at me. “I can’t go and meet their grandmother.”

   “And why not?” she demanded, folding her arms over chest again.

   “It’s not appropriate,” I replied, shooting Haz a disgusted look. He was sporting one himself. “As are many things that’ve been done.”

   “That you’ve done,” muttered Harry.

   “Did you two hear me, or not?” Anne snapped loudly, obviously used to dealing with these sorts of situations. “Bec, I’m sorry, but you’re coming with us whether you like it or not. Now go inside and get ready.” Hiccupping, I turned on my heel and slugged my way back up to the house.

   I went upstairs to go to my room, but Gemma followed me. I glanced back at her over my shoulder, but she returned the look with raised eyebrows. Sniffling, I sat down on the stiff mattress and pulled a tissue out of the tissue box, using it wipe my nose. She sat down next to me.

   “Bec?”

   “Mmm?” I groaned quietly, not meeting her eyes.

   “The two of you obviously have problems,” she said with a gentle pause, before adding, “You don’t want me to know any details. But…is this there any chance this has something to do with the way you met?”

   I shook my head.

   “No,” I whispered. For once, it actually didn’t. This wasn’t a Niall-Harry situation, it was just Harry. Just…Harry. I sniffed again. “It’s not.”

   “At all?”

   “Nope,” I said, sniffling. I looked up to see her staring at me with an inch on pity. If I was her, I’d pity me too.

 

***

 

   The street lights were well on by the time I got on my way to Holmes Chapel Retirement Village. I had walked up the street to the local deli and found a bike leaning outside the late night convenience store. Now usually, I’m no thief. And I’m still not. I’m just an impolite borrower.

   I stared out at the streets around me, all the streets looking the same in the orange-hued lamps. I only found my way around using only the street name signs.

   According to the massive clock tower near the entrance of the retirement village, it was already closing in on 9:30. My bad.

   Gemma had helped me ‘clean up’ for about an hour, which consisted of me shoving my face under a running tap. We had come downstairs after that, and sat down for dinner. I immediately noticed his lack of presence.

   “He went to go visit his gramaw by himself,” said Anne, giving me a look. Well obviously all that approval of me had abruptly dropped. Oh, who cared? People didn’t like me anyway. “Just him and her.”

   I felt guilty despite myself, and she must have known, because she added,

   “He misses her.” And didn’t that make me feel so much better? I had eaten dinner in silence, before thanking Anne and returning to my room. Gemma followed me there again, like a little guard to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid, which was quite inconvenient seeing as I was planning to do something very stupid.

   “Are you going somewhere?” she asked, walking in as I pulled on my thick knit cardigan.

   “A walk.” Charming. I sounded like someone stepped on my voice box.

   “You didn’t dress up for your day-time walks,” she commented, and I saw no need to back up her observation. “You going to visit him then?” I looked at her as I grabbed my boots.

   “I might.”

   “Look,” she said impatiently, looking irked by me. “I know you don’t need all these problems that are being caused by the two of you being together, but maybe you should rethink it if you go back looking for it all over again, every single time.”

   I wanted to say something, but she walked out briskly. How _dare_ she suggest that I went looking for trouble with him? I wasn’t just some mindless girl who could be played around with at his will; that wasn’t why I went to the retirement village.

   “Evening, miss,” asked the receptionist as I stepped into the low-ceilinged lobby. “How may I help you?”

   “Um,” I said hesitantly, looking around, “I’m just dropping in to visit…visit a friend. I’m not sure which room she’s in, though.”

   “Sure, I’ll just run her name through the system,” she replied, ducking down to her computer. Her head popped back up. “Name?”

   “Oh,” I said, completely flustered, “Um…S-Styles?”

   “No Styles in the system, miss,” she said, with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure you’re a visitor?”

   “I- yes,” I said stubbornly, “My other friend should have come through here not so long ago.”

   “Who?”

   “He’s not hard to forget.” I swallowed. “Doesn’t smile much, green eyes?” She stared off thoughtfully for a moment. “C-curly hair?”

   “Oh,” she said, smacking her head, “Of course, how could I forget?” My mouth flattened out into a straight line. “He went to visit-”

   “His grandmother, yes,” I said tersely, “Which room is she in?”

   “Well he already knew which room, so he just went straight in.” She chewed on the end on her pen, staring at me. “You look familiar.” She didn’t know Harry Styles. I was pretty damn sure she didn’t know me.

   “People say that a lot,” I replied dismissively, “Can you search up another name on the system?”

   “Which one?”

   “I…Cox, I think.”

   “We have five Coxes here,” she said.

   “Five?” I repeated. Just my luck. She rattled off their first names.

   “Paul, Fergus…M- all over the age of sixty five, three females, two males, one with macular degeneration,” she mumbled, scrolling through the page. Leaning over the counter, I jabbed the screen with my finger.

   “There!” I said, “Stop! Mac- macular degeneration…” My mouth was running dry.

   “Is that her?” I didn’t reply. My eyes scanned mutely to her room number. I pushed myself back off the counter and walked off, my grip tightening on my scarf.

   I used to get lost in shopping malls I’d walk through twice a day for four years. Not much to say, that I’d get lost in a retirement village. Luckily, it was one of those which must have been designed for the mental capability for processes of old people, because I found room 372 easily.

   I approached the door slowly, not sure if it was even the right person. Oh the disaster if I walked into someone’s room who hadn’t even turned out to be his grandmother. An old man with a support shuffled by with his minder, down the corridor away from me, followed by a man pushing a cart full of meals.

   It wasn’t such a bad place.

   I stood a foot away from the door, weighing up the logistics of what would happen when I walked in there. Sighing, I wrung my scarf once more over in my hands and reached out, pulling the door open gently. I poked my head around the door, to find the place in complete pitch black. All I could hear was the subdued mumble of voices.

   I crept inside, and shut the door quietly behind me. The voices were coming from the next room. I followed my ears, shuffling slowly as I dared across the carpeted floor. My hands moved around, making sure I didn’t bump into anything, which proved useless when my knee collided with what felt like the edge of a table. Reeling, I stumbled over, my back bumping into something, and I felt it move.

   I froze completely, in a half action shot; one hand over my crippled knee, the other pushing against the wall, my legs turned involuntarily over each other. My back had in fact bumped into the door to the other room, and it had swung open.

   I looked on the small room, equipped with an old couch set, a tiny kitchen bench and a grand piano sitting across from it. Harry sat on a chair, head bowed slightly so his curls fell over his face, facing me but obviously too engrossed to notice my abrupt arrival. His hands were entwined with someone else’s; someone who’s back was turned on me.

   He was mumbling something in his slow, low voice. No, he was _reading_. Off a book.
    
    
       “And now, far off in the fragrant darkness, the tree is tremulous again with bloom, for June comes back. Tonight, what girl, dreamily before mirror shakes from her hair.” I was no genius, but I could tell what it was. Poetry. “Wearing her lights like golden spangles, glinting on black satin.” I was almost hypnotised by the sound of his voice, and the words that tumbled from his lips. They were mesmerising.

    “While your kisses and the flowers, falling, falling, tangled in my ha-” he stopped and looked up, seeing me squatting awkwardly in the doorway. I blinked and shot up, teetering over unsteadily. His jaw dropped slightly, but he shut it tightly again. “B-”

   “I’m sorry,” I blurted, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” I was speaking more to the hunched figure than to Harry, who was still gaping at me.

   “How did you get here?” Avoid the question, Bec.

   “I’ll just go wait outside then,” I mumbled, ducking my head and turning away to retreat, but a voice stopped me.

   “Harry? Who’s this?” It was such a terrifyingly old voice; I was scared it would just break. I glanced backwards at Harry who looked slightly agitated, his knee jiggling up and down as he stared at me. The poetry book was lying snapped shut.

   “It’s someone I know.”

   “Who?” the voice wavered. Haz hesitated, twitched then leaned over and whispered something quickly to his company. It was too quiet not to catch bits of it. “Invite her in.”

   I looked back up, catching his eye. He was still staring at me, but I dropped my gaze and shuffled over slowly. I walked around and stood next to Harry, realising that I was finally meeting her; the precious one he cared about the most in the world. His gramaw.

   “Hi,” I whispered. She looked up at me, white hair, wrinkled skin, with laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. Her eyes. They were a beautiful sea green, but when she moved her head towards me, I could tell immediately that they were empty. They didn’t see. “You must…must be Harry’s grandmother.”

   “They tell me,” she said with a quiet laugh, “Are you the girl that Harry’s told me all about?” I stared at her, avoiding any eye contact with him.

   “I don’t know,” I replied, “My name’s Rebecca Lowthorne.”

   “Rebecca Lowthorne,” she repeated, as she grasped my hand tightly, her fingertips tracing over my skin.

   She tugged me down with a gentle force, so I kneeled beside her. She was tiny. Slowly, her shaking hands moved to my face, where her fingers felt out the shape of my cheeks, my eyes, my nose and lips. Her eyes were fixed on a point somewhere above my head.

   “R-Rebecca Lowthorne…”

   “Bec,” I whispered and her hands froze.

   “Of course,” she said, her touch turning into more of a caress. She ran her thumb across my cheek shakily. “Cor, Harry, she’s beautiful.”

   “…I know,” he said quietly. My heart thudded, I wanted to turn around just to check if he was pulling a face or joking around. But I didn’t. Eventually, her hands left my face. I stood back up and looked down at Harry, who was leaning on his elbow, hand curled over his mouth.

   “Were you reading poetry?” I asked. He glanced up at me, curls gathering around his eyes. He flicked them and looked back down.

   “A bit.”

   “Summer Night, Riverside,” replied the old lady. “Sara Teasdale.”

   Her hands moved from her lap over to the table, fumbling for the book. She held it up to me and I accepted it graciously. I flicked it open- there were poems upon poems upon poems. To think that she could remember the names and people behind every single one was incredible.

   “It was beautiful,” I commented, setting the book down.

   “It’s a poem for young lovers,” she said, a knowing smile spreading on her lips. “For days when happiness springs from everything. Tell me Bec, was today one of those days?”

   I paused and sat down next to her on the ground. I could feel his watch on me, though his head was turned away. Well, at least he was trying.

   “I don’t think so, Mrs. Cox.”

   “No need to call me that,” she chortled, “Dianne.”

   “OK,” I whispered.

   “Let me tell you something,” she said, her unseeing eyes moving as her grip tightened on my hand. “When you get to be like me, you realise how many mistakes you’ve made through life. There are some things, you realise, that were never worth the fight. Others, you should never let go of.”

   I swallowed.

   For some reason, I felt like she was referring to me almost personally.

   “Gramaw,” he said abruptly, “She’s not here for a life lesson.”

   “Harry,” I interrupted, staring at him, “It doesn’t matter what I’m here for, I’ll listen to whatever she has to say.”

   “That makes me wonder,” he said, finally looking me in the eye. His hand was still curled around his mouth. “Why are you here?”

   I found myself being able to even reply. Did he mean here, as in the retirement village? Or England? Or his life?

   “Do you play?”

   I blinked confused, and looked up at her.

   “Sorry?”

   “Do you play? The piano,” she said, “There’s…we have one here. Can you play it?”

   “A little,” I said, “Not very well.”

   “Don’t play it off,” answered Harry, staring straight at his grandmother, “She can play just fine.”

   “I have a song,” she said, her hands moving from mine and fumbling on the table again. “The drawer, Harry…” He leant down and pulled out the drawer, shuffling through the papers. “It’s a song…I haven’t heard in many years. Gemma refuses to play it when she comes over.”

   “Oh, not this song,” he groaned, his hands falling over the paper.

   “Show it to her.” He sighed, pulling out a few pages of manuscript paper and handing them to me. The title at the top of the page read _Almost Lovers._ It was hand-written; each music note an uneven scrawl. “I remember listening to it. I wrote every note myself.”

   “You wrote this?”

   “I have too much time on my hands,” she chuckled, “Will you play it?”

   “I…” I hesitated slightly. Could I really play this song, and do it justice, that meant quite so much to this old lady? I understood why Gemma just straight out refused to. “I’m not sure I-”

   “Oh go ahead,” she said, “This is why he brought you along, isn’t it?” She chuckled and I glanced at Harry, who was staring the opposite direction. Huh. Was that right?

   “OK,” I said standing up, “I’ll play it.”

   “Thank you, Bec,” she said quietly with a small smile. I looked down at Harry expectantly. He looked up for a second and I shot him a questioning look.

   “Well?”

   “What?”

   “It’s a duet, Harry,” I said flatly. “You’re the singer here, aren’t you?”

   “I don’t think so,” he said edgily.

   “Harry, do it please,” said his grandmother finally. “I’ve been waiting for so long.”

   “People wait for a very long time gramaw,” he said stoically, “Sometimes the result isn’t always the thing they expect.”

   “Would you like me to call your mother?”

   “Don’t bring her into this,” he grumbled, but he got to his feet anyway. Apparently, the looming threat of Anne over him was enough to convince him to sing with me. We walked across the room to the grand piano and I sat down on the leather seat.

   He sat down next to me and I shuffled further away immediately. Avoiding his eye, I set up the manuscript papers on the old faded music stand. The ivory keys were covered in a fine layer of dust, yellowed with age and disuse. I let my fingers trail over them slowly, pressing a key. The sound of a rich piano filled the room.

   “You ready?” I breathed, turning to him. His eyes met mine for a second, and he shrugged. Well, fine then. I turned back to the piano, breathing in deeply; before I let my fingers fall to the keys.

   The harmony of notes that flowed from the pages of music took my breath away. I opened my mouth and sung quietly as possible. My voice wasn’t exactly something I prided myself on.

   “Your fingertips across my skin, the palm trees swaying in the wind, images.” Gulping, I looked to the next page. “You sang me Spanish lullabies, the sweetest sadness in your eyes, clever trick.”

   I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, sitting there plainly staring at the white pages. The music changed to the bridge. His mouth opened, and he sang as he always did. With a voice full of character, breadth and yearning.

   “And I will never wanna see you unhappy. I thought you’d want the same for me.”

   _Goodbye my almost lover, goodbye my hopeless dream  
   I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be?   
   So long my luckless romance, my back is turned on you   
   Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache, almost lovers always do._

   My throat was running dry again. It was the alcohol, I knew it. But there was something about those lyrics. Those strange words so carelessly scribbled across the paper, that maybe had something to do with situations I could understand.

   It was almost dizzying how easy he made singing together seem. The second verse began, and I found myself needing to try again.

   “We walk along a crowded street, you take my hand and dance with me in the shade. And when you left, you kissed my lips, you promised you’d-”

   “Never ever forget,” he sang with me and I almost stopped playing. Sometimes I had to remind myself that he did this for a living. “Ooh.”

   “But I will never wanna see you unhappy. I thought you’d want the same for me.”

   _Goodbye my almost lovers, goodbye my hopeless dream  
   I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be?  
   So long my luckless romance, my back is turned on you  
   Should’ve known you bring me heartache, almost lovers always do._

His mouth was slightly ajar, as if not knowing what else to do. Could the message by any clearer?

   “I cannot go to the ocean-”

   “I cannot walk the streets at night,” he shot back.

   “I cannot wake up in the morning-”

   “Without you on my mind.”

   “And now you’re gone and I’m haunted, and I bet you were just fine,” I sang, watching him. He ducked his head and mumbled in his low voice,

   “Did I make it that easy to walk right in and out of my life?”

   The music dulled and became quiet.

   _Goodbye my almost lover, goodbye my hopeless dream  
   I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be?  
   So long my luckless romance, my back is turned on you  
   Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache, almost lovers always do._

   The piano stopped. The singing stopped.

   We were both breathing heavily, staring at each other like we had no idea what happened. Both our mouths were slightly ajar. I didn’t know how, but we had both moved so we were facing each other, one of his arms resting on the seat beside my hip. It felt like every breath had been knocked from my body.

   “That was beautiful.” The sound of her voice made us both start abruptly, like we’d forgotten she was still in the room. He blinked and looked downward, ruffling his hair up nervously. I rung my hands nervously and shuffled the papers back together.

   I got up, leaving him sitting there. I walked back across the room, and handed her the music.

   “Your voices,” she whispered, hands resting on mine again. “Together… they’re magnificent.” I didn’t know what to say.

   “Thank you,” I said, “I don’t…thank you.” I stepped back carefully, and retreated to the piano. I sat down numbly as he stood up and talked quietly to her. I didn’t hear anything.

   Next thing I knew, I heard the sound of the door closed. I glanced up, and he stood there, leaning against the shut door, looking both relieved and slightly nervous. He messed his hair up again.

   “Where is she?” I asked, as he hesitated before walking over slowly, across the dark room.

   “I put her in her bed,” he replied, stopping and leaning against the piano, “She’s asleep.” I looked down, running my finger on a key repetitively. “Hey. Are you…are you OK?”

   “Mm,” I said, “I’m fine.” He walked around and sat back down next to me, letting out a deep sigh as he did. I looked at him and he shot me a grim smile. I wasn’t in the mood for his charms right now.

   “You sure? You seemed a little…eh,” he hesitated, staring at the keyboard.

   “A little,” I mumbled with a shrug, “Forget it.”

   “What?”

   “I said forget it, don’t worry about it.”

   “No,” he said firmly, sitting up, “Look, I’m sorry about all that…stuff that happened.”

   “When?” I demanded, “On your front yard? Today, or last night, Harry? Or just then, singing that song for your gramaw?”

   “I- everything,” he blurted, “I’m just upset.”

   “Well, so am I.”

   “What are _you_ upset for?” he grumbled, looking slightly angry.

   “What are _you_ upset for?” I shot back snappishly.

   “For you yelling at me,” he answered, folding his arms over his chest. “The usual rage business.” I rubbed my eyes and peered at him through them. He was regarding me with a wary expression.

   “Is what you did to me in your van this morning enough?” I asked, and I stared at the piano, not wanting to see his face. He fell silent. Yes. Eat it all in, Styles.

   “That…” he trailed off, making me a frustrated noise. “You know why.”

   “Do I?” I fired up. 

   “Look, whatever’s going on between us-”

   “Whatever’s going on between us?” I repeated incredulously, stopping and staring at him. “It had nothing to do with _me_ it was all _you_.”

   “Me?” he scoffed, “What did I do wrong about this? Please, enlighten me.”

   “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know,” I snapped, “No one’s that stupid.”

   “Let’s assume I am!” he cried, throwing his hands up, “Tell me what I did doing wrong!”

   “Everything!” I shouted, “When I told you we had to change the way we behaved, I didn’t mean we had to change who we _were_.”

   “I don’t- what…” he gasped.

   “You acted like you didn’t even _know_ me anymore,” I sighed, “Ever since…ever since I just…” I closed my eyes and breathed heavily. “I’m…I’m sorry-”

   “No,” he said curtly, “I’m sorry too. Just…” He took my hand in his gently and I stared at it. He held my hand differently, fingers interlocked, palms pressing against each other.

   “But…this, this morning-”

   “You know why,” he interrupted shortly, staring up at a spot on the wall, his expression completely closed off again. I paused, trying to think.

   “Do I?” I repeated. He turned to look at me, our eyes locking, as if to check if I was genuine or not.

   “No?” he prompted in a quiet voice. “Not at…?” I blinked at him and his mouth curled into an uneven line.

   “H-Harry,” I began uncertainly.

   “I’ve always had something for you, Bec,” he said indifferently. His eyes were fixed on that spot again. “You know that.” I stared at him disbelievingly.

   “When did you get so distant?”

   “Is that really the point?” he sighed exasperatedly, pulling his hand from mine. I stretched out my fingers. Now they were numb and empty.

   “You can’t have anything for me, you know.”

   “I know.”

   “But…?” I pressed on.

   “But it doesn’t stop me, does it?”

   What could I possibly say to that? He let out a huff as though he’d been holding it for so long. All those lies had made us cold.

   “What about her?”

   “I should care, shouldn’t I?” he asked. Part of me wanted to blurt out a ‘no’ and tell him that he should…well, would he even know what to do with me anyway? I knew the right answer.

   “Yeah.”

   “So, is it wrong that I don’t?” he whispered, leaning closer to me. I paused then nodded vigorously.

   “M- yep. Really…really wrong.”

   “And if I don’t care…?” he said, a small smirk rising on those lips. He was so close that those curls were brushing my forehead.

   “Then that’s wrong,” I said quietly, as he cocked his head slightly. I was rigid with anticipation. I was sure it was just that bit of alcohol left running around in my system.

   “Oh?” he said, his eyes lowering to my lips, and then flickering up to my eyes. Green to the iris.

   “Then again,” I whispered, with a small smile, “You’re known for being all sorts of wrong, hmm?”

   “You,” he growled, biting his lip, surveying me carefully.

   His lips crushed against mine. He hadn’t kissed me like that in a long time. In fact, he hadn’t… It was too good. The feeling of our lips cascading over each other, the desperation to feel something, only further spurred on by the touch of our skin.

   His arms were encasing me, pressing me tightly against his chest, totally unwilling to let go. My hands were on those slightly fuzzy cheeks, holding him in it. He wasn’t going to let go, I wouldn’t allow him to. All thoughts in my head had grinded to a standstill, I was lost in him.

   I pulled my lips from his to take a gasping breath, before kissing him again. His hands were moving across my lower back, making me numb as they brushed the hem of shirt aside and trailed across my bare skin. At some unidentifiable point, it all went very wrong.

   One of my hands had latched around the back of his neck, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere, though here there wasn’t much where he could go. Then the taste of salt on our lips. Bitter salt. No, you see, I had tasted enough of them to recognise it. Tears.

   He tasted them too, because he pulled away out of shock and probably disgust.

   “Bec, are you…?” he gasped, one hand brushing the hair from my eyes. I raised a hand to my mouth in surprise, before moving it to my cheek. No. They were still there. Tears; rolling and tumbling for all they were worth. “Babe? You’re…”

   I pushed his hand off me and staggered off the piano bench that we had been sitting on. He might have thought so, but now I knew why those were there. He looked at me with those stupid begging eyes.

   “What were you _thinking_?” I demanded as he stood up. “No you- you stay away from me!”

   “Bec, don’t over react,” he said, reaching out to me, but I ignored the gesture. “I don’t know what was going through my mind, you were just there and-”

   “Oh,” I laughed miserably, “Oh, I was just _there_ then? Why does this sound so familiar? It’s all the same excuses.”

   “But I wanted to.”

   “This!” I spat, pointing at him, “This isn’t fair! What you’re doing, it’s not bloody fair to any of us!”

   “I didn’t mean to…”

   “No, you can’t say anything without me doubting you now!” I snapped, “Did you not hear a single word I just said? About her, and-”

   “You did not hear what _I_ said?” he shot back, “Jeez, Bec, how many times do I have to say that I’ve got…”

   “I don’t care what you have for me!” I interrupted sharply, “Throw it away! Get rid of it, whatever it takes. But you-” I stopped talking. Why did my words sound so familiar? Suddenly, I remembered. I had known all along, hadn’t I?

   _"Don't," I spat, slapping his hand away, "Just don't, alright? Don't love me, don't care, don't bother. Just forget everything!" I knew it wasn't going to work. It was like asking me to forget everything. It was impossible._

_"Bec-" he began, eyes wide in alarm, but I cut across him._

_"You can't love me, alright? You can't...you can't because..."_

   “You’re being unreasonable,” said Harry in a low voice.

   “Am I?” I demanded angrily, “Really, Haz? The way you _treat_ me is just like some…some play toy you can go running to when you’re bored with the one you have. And I’m drunk, and whenever I am, I always end up doing something I regret.”

   “I would never-”

   “That’s all I’ve done, innit?” I said bitterly, staring hard at the floor. Guilt was building in me. “Made you think all this time that I’m just some…” Too many words I could think of.

   “I don’t think you’re like that,” he said softly, “You’re speci-”

   “I’m not bloody special!” I cried, “I’m _common_ , alright? Why would you…? Me? Over _her_?”

   “You couldn’t understand.”

   “You’re right,” I snapped, “I don’t.”

   “I’m not saying I don’t have feelings for her,” he said impatiently. “Of course, I do, I wouldn’t be with her if I didn’t. But when it comes to you, it’s…different.”

   “Why?” I asked, “Because I’m your friend? Let’s face it, ever since we started seeing other people, we have not been _friends_.”

   “That’s because I don’t know how to be your friend,” he snapped defensively, “You’re either pushing me away or luring me in.”

   “Luring! You in!” I cried, burying my face in my hands, “Yes, that’s all I do now, right?  God, what a mess…”

   “I didn’t mean it like that, Bec. You know it.”

   “You assume I know everything,” I replied, glaring at him through my fingers, “Take a clear step back, I don’t. From what I can see here, neither of us can still be friends without ruining the other one’s life. So what’s there to do then?”

   “You’re not saying…”

   “Just call your girlfriend, Haz,” I snarled.

   I stormed out, I could hear him calling my name behind me, but I didn’t care. By the time the cold air hit my face again; hot tears were there to nurse it. Wiping them away quickly, I sniffled and glanced at the clock tower. Eleven p.m. The bike I had borrowed was still leaning against the signpost, but I walked right past it, as fast as possible.

   I knew him. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.


	20. All You Need is Love

_Present Day  
late February/early March, 2013_

 

   In that weekend alone, I probably walked further than I had in most years of my life. I woke up at about 4:30 in the morning, dragged myself from the stiff mattress, and began to pack. I wrapped myself in several more layers of clothing to ease the chill. I shivered my way into my beanie and a pair of gloves to stop my hands from hurting so much from numbness.

   Bag in hand, I walked down the stairs slowly and quietly as possible, not to wake anyone up. I grabbed the first piece of paper I saw, a pen and scribbled a brief thank you note to Anne and Gemma. They probably would disregard it though, seeing what a mess I had made last night.

   I shuffled my unfeeling feet into my ugg boots, which were slightly warmer. Then I started walking. I walked for who knows how long, or how far, but by the time I reached Holmes Chapel railway station, dawn was cracking. I made it in time for the dawn express back to London.

   There was a train that arrived every two hours. It was large, and noisy, but I didn’t complain. Who was there to complain to anyway? I climbed aboard and shuffled into a seat by myself. I hugged my belongings against my chest to retain warmth. It was slightly warmer in here too. So I closed my eyes, and let myself drift off into a well-deserved nap.

   I remembered last night.

   Of all things, really? I had practically fled from Holmes Chapel retirement village, before skilfully getting lost. I didn’t really mind, though. All the streets looked the same, and unlike the retirement village, there wasn’t a street sign pointing back towards the place I came from. It must have been into the wee hours of the morning when I finally found my way back up that cobblestoned driveway, across the front lawn and crept towards the front door of the house.

   I opened it slowly with the spare key that Anne had showed me where she kept. Quietly as possible, I closed the door behind me. I was so exhausted that I ached everywhere. I walked into the living room, first checking no one was there. I dumped the keys on the kitchen counter, pulling out a bench and thinking that maybe it would be nice just to sleep here for a few moments, when the sound of a phone chime made me start.

   I nearly fell of the bench. I adjusted myself irritably and glanced over my shoulder. His phone. Sitting on the dining table, blinking. Message received, then. I was curious despite myself, so I climbed clumsily off the bench and approached the phone.

   I reached out and picked it up.

   1 MESSAGE RECEIVED.

   I shouldn’t read his texts. I shouldn’t even be touching his phone. Yet, his iPhone showed me the message with even having to unlock the screen pattern.

   ellis says:  
   you’re NAUGHTY! ;) ;) what a tease

   I almost dropped the phone in my hands and I fumbled with it senselessly. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest. That’s right Bec, why are you even reading his messages? I stared at it for a few seconds. I assumed a lot. I could’ve been anything, right? My fingers were moving as though they had a mind of their own.

   Unlocking his screen pattern. Finding his message inbox. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. My eyes stared blankly at the screen clutched in my hands.

-          ellis calcutt & harry styles have shared 159 messages

   How much had he been texting her? I opened their texting thread, knowing how wrong this would be, how invaded I’d feel if he did the same to me. But I wasn’t worried about him right now. All I could think about was how I felt. As I opened the thread, my heart fell so fast, I thought it’d fall out of my ass. I caught little snippets of their conversations, some texts too long to even try comprehending.

   ellis says:  
   daamn no more i swear…

   harry says:  
   tell me i’m bad n you like it

   ellis says:  
   you know you’re so bad babe ;)

   A cold sweat had broken out over my neck. I didn’t even care anymore. I let the phone slip from my fingers and clatter noisily on to the table. I turned sharply on my heels, almost falling over from imbalance, and I marched out of the room, trying to register what I had just seen.

   Of course. How had I been so impossible naïve? I wasn’t his special girl, it wasn’t even just weighing up between Emma and I. There were probably tons of others, just lining up and waiting, people that I’d never even heard of before ready for Harry Styles to call their number.

   I stirred on the train. I rubbed my eyes, looking out the window. Sunrise was poking it’s head from behind the clouds as the train rumbled along the uneven tracks towards London.

   Every word I had said, willing them to be wrong, had turned out to be so true. 

 

***

 

   “Service!” _Ding ding._

   “No Louis,” I snapped into my phone furiously, leaning down as I scooped up several plates in one hand. I balanced them precariously and stumbled back to the scullery. “That’s not how it works. Do you have any…yeah, I heard. No, no, I told him what-”

   “Service!”

   “He _can’t_ now, can he?” I said, shoving the plates aggressively in to the sink. “He hasn’t told you a thing? Mhmm. No, I’m not going to. He’s your bestie, isn’t he?”

   “Service!”

   “Bloody hell,” I growled, walking back towards the café, but ducking behind the counter to avoid being seen. “Why does everyone say that? Have you seen us? We couldn’t be less close.”

   “ _Hello_? Does someone want to be _fired_!”

   “Bec!” barked Cody, one of the young kitchen hands, who I had befriended a little. “Are you deaf? Get off the phone, he’s gonna slaughter you!” I groaned.

   “I’ve gotta go,” I said quickly, glancing over my shoulder. “No, that’s none of your business. _Bye_ , Louis.”

   “SER-”

   “I’m here!” I cried, launching myself around the counter only to find myself face to face with my angry boss. “Sorry, I just got a little flustered.”

   “Next time-”

   “There won’t be a next time,” I assured quickly, grabbing the plate and hurrying off before he could change his mind.

   I tucked my phone into my apron just as I arrived at the table. I let out a deep sigh, cocking my hip and staring down at him. He was sitting alone by himself, looking as usual, all innocent and sweet. I knew they’d track me down eventually.

   This entire week- with Louis constantly texting, Zayn trying to drop by when I was at home and Niall grilling me via voicemail since apparently my connection got amazingly better. It was just a matter of time before this one had his say in it all.

   “Hey there, Bec.”

   “Hi Liam,” I grumbled, setting down his food. He merely gave him one of his small, sympathetic smiles. “Did you Louis tell you?”

   “Tell me what?”

   “That I _work_ here?” I replied, “God, he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

   “That’s not the only thing he told me,” Liam admitted, shaking his phone. I got a brief glance at the screen, to tell it was a text. “Come on, sit down and let’s talk it over.”

   “What am I going to do with the lot of you?” I snapped accusingly, “The five of you are…you’re just- you spread gossip faster than most girls.”

   “So will you sit with me?” he asked, his lower lip sticking out a little. I felt myself being caught between wanting to maul him and wanting to ball him up and hug him to death.

   “I can’t,” I said, “Did you not just see my boss fly off his mouth when I missed service?”

   “Yeah,” he said, holding his phone up to his face and reading, “While you and Louis were ‘arguing like shit’ and you were ‘going off like a firecracker about your relation-”

   “I was not!” I said hotly, but he looked at me so earnestly that I felt instantaneously guilty. “Look, he did a lot of crap to me in Holmes Chapel that I just don’t want to even… _talk_ or _think_ about at the moment.”

   “Like what?”

   “Just…oh bloody fuck, Liam,” I groaned, sinking in to chair opposite him in defeat. “Every time I’m with him, I forget who I am. That I’m…just some nobody, and he’s a _somebody_.”

   “What about Sydney?” I stiffened.

   “We’ve changed.”

   “Everyone changes,” he shot back dismissively, leaning forward, “But you? Have you changed, Bec?” Somehow, his words were strikingly familiar. The déjà vu hit me like a truck. I frowned deeply.

   “Have you been talking to Niall?”

   Liam fidgeted slightly, avoiding my eye.

   “Liam,” I said in a low voice, “What did he tell you?”

   “Nothing he shouldn’t have,” he answered evenly, “What about him, Bec? Have you gone to him?”

   “It’s not about singling him out anymore, alright?” I snapped, folding my arms over my chest, “I haven’t talked to _any_ of you because of this. The only reason why I’m talking to you is because you tracked me down.”

   “How are you guys now?”

   “Why don’t you bloody ask him yourself, seeing as you two exchange gossip like a pair of chooks.”

   “ _Bec_.”

   “We’re absolutely fine!” I spat, “He’s my best friend, Liam. You don’t have friends who are girls, do you? It’s a common concept.”

   “No need to get all defensive up in there,” he said calmly, holding his hands up, “I just wanted to know.”

   “OK, you wanna know?” I demanded, pointing at him, “I like being friends with him, I really do. He’s a great guy. But no, I don’t like it when I see both of them together, because it’s strange. Two parts of my life which never seemed to match up.”

   “Why not?”

   “Haz is just…Haz,” I said quietly, looking at my folded hands, “And Niall, he’s just…he’s just bloody Niall.” I looked up at Liam, and realised he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. “All that past stuff. It’s not relevant anymore.”

   “It is. Niall’s your ex. Harry’s your…I don’t even know what he is.”

   “Niall is _not_ my ex!” I snapped, “He’s my _friend_ Liam, who I happened to date for about five weeks. That’s nothing. That was my second relationship ever, so really I doubt it’s quite so monumental.”

   “But when he left-”

   “That was different,” I said flatly, my face falling into that vague, plain expression it did when the subject came up. It was rarer these days. “Don’t bring that up, Liam.”

   “Why not?”

   “Because I was a wreck.”

   “Exactly!” he cried, leaning back in his chair, “He walked out, and you fell apart like a house of cards. How is that…how can you just come back eight months later and act like you guys are anything but friends?”

   “We are.”

   “Harry was your liability.”

   “I’m sorry,” I said snappishly, “But whose side are you on here, Liam? Cos you’re sending me some serious mixed signals.”

   “I’m on no one’s side,” he replied tensely, “I just think it’s best if you think all of this over. I mean _all_ of it.”

   “No,” I snapped, standing up, “I don’t think so.”

   “Why not?”

   “Stop asking me that!”

   “Maybe I would if you could just face the question,” he retorted. “You always dance around the subject, Bec.”

   “Everything,” I said sharply, waving my hands in the air in a circle, “I mean _everything_ that happened during those five weeks, I don’t want to even go near. Don’t! Ask me why. I could see in your face you were going to.”

   “But it’s not a reasonable compromise.”

   “It’s my compromise,” I said shortly. “It’s like a…big, delicate ball of…I don’t know. You touch it, or play with it too much and BANG! Big explosion and everything goes flying, you’re so flustered you can’t see straight, and it falls apart again.”

   “So?”

   “So you don’t touch it,” I said with a grim smile, “You store it in a box and hide it in your attic.”

   “Maybe you could learn to sort it out slowly,” he suggested, “Then you don’t have to be so completely thrown off by the thought of the two of them. They are the best of friends, you know.”

   “I know,” I sniffled, “I’m not going to stand in the way of that. But Liam, I spent so long, _so_ long…putting that ball…together. For me.”

   “But this…”

   “It’s got nothing to _do_ with Niall, why do people not understand that?” I demanded incredulously. “Everyone thinks that because the first time we met, I was just some fan girlfriend who he picked up out of some Australian gutter and would ditch at the end of the tour, that suddenly, I’m just _that_ forever?”

   “No need to be defensive,” he replied evenly, and I huffed. “We all just associate you with him, because…well when you were together, he was so happy. He was at his best.”

   “Oh and this is supposed to make me feel better about what I did to him?” I grumbled, tightening my arms around my chest. Maybe if I could squeeze hard enough, I’d run out of breath and fall asleep.

   “It’s not that. You just…” he trailed off, glancing over his shoulder. “You can’t run away from the past forever.”

   “This has nothing to do with him!” I howled, “Leave him _alone_ Liam, I mean it. Nothing that happens to me now, has any fault on him. No, this time it’s all _Harry_ , OK? So why don’t you ask him that once he’s done what I told him to, we can try talk.”

   “What did you ask him to do?” he inquired curiously. I opened my mouth, the closed it sharply.

   “’s none of your business, Liam,” I muttered, standing up and grabbing his empty plate. I turned and started to walk away, when he added abruptly as an almost afterthought,

   “Just thought you should know, by the way. He broke up with Emma.” I froze and I blinked several times. My back was to him; at least he couldn’t see my face.

   A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind. That was _not_ what I had told him to do. I told him to _talk_ to her, not break up with her. Was he crazy? Did the rest of the boys think that I told him to break up with her before he came to speak to me? My jaw was hanging slightly ajar. Oh _Emma_. Poor, friendly _Emma_.

  You know the war isn’t done when people get caught in the crossfire.

   “Service!” I wrenched my eyes open and marched up to the counter, grabbing the next plate of food and handing over Liam’s plate. When I turned back around, he was gone.

   As soon as my shit was over, I rushed into the back room, pulling over my uniform while struggling with my phone. I dialled Louis’ number and propped it up on the shelf and I undressed and grabbed my day clothes, beginning to pull them back on.

   “…yeelo?” Louis’ voice.

   “You son of a bitch!” I yelled into the phone, “You could have told me that he broke up with her! Don’t you even try making excuses you-”

   “You’ve reached Louis’ phone!” he continued and I groaned. Always the joker. It was his voicemail. “If you’re a fan, well done getting my number. You go! If you’re a friend, sing your song after the beep. If you’re Harry, then you parked your car in Emma’s driveway.”

   _Beep_.

   “Asshole!” I hissed venomously, and I hung up.

   Pulling my hair into a simple bun, I grabbed my stuff, my phone and hurried outside. Fumbling around in my bag, I flagged down a taxi. I jumped in, slamming the door behind me. It was dark already, but it was only 5:30. Fantastic.

   “Where to?” asked the driver.

   “Uh, Mantle Apartments please,” I replied, glancing up from my phone. “Can you make it quick? I’m hoping to catch someone.”

   “Mantle Apartments?” he repeated, pulling out onto the traffic, “You a One Direction fan, then?”

   “N- uh, you could say that.” Urgh. Of course I’m a fan. I arrived, jumping out of the cab and only just remembering to pay him. With shaking hands, I tossed him a few notes too many and rushed up the steps. I had to find Louis before Haz could find me, mostly because I was so lost I wouldn’t even know what to say to him.

   “Ms. Lowthorne, is that you?” I glanced up and spotted Frank, waving at me.

   “Hi Frank,” I said, feeling slightly relieved. At least there was one person who never judged me. Not much to pride myself on, seeing as he didn’t even know me. “Can you buzz me up to Louis’ place?”

   “Mr. Tomlinson’s and Mr.-”

   “Yep,” I said, walking quickly towards the elevator, “Thanks Frank!” The doors had begun to slide closed after me, when an arm shot out and they opened back up again.

   “Sorry,” said a familiar voice, “I just need to-” He stepped in the elevator next to me and I gaped at him as the doors slid shut.

   “ _Lakyn_?”

   He jumped and pressed himself against the opposite wall of the elevator like I was a disease. God, it _was_ him.

   “Bec?” he said in a tight voice, “Is that you?”

   “Yeah,” I said in a surprised voice, “It’s ah…good. To see you. You alright? You seem a bit tense. What are you doing here?”

   “I’m…I’m fine,” he said, gulping. “No, I’m visiting a friend. She lives here. I didn’t know that-”

   “I don’t,” I said quickly, “I’m visiting someone as well.”

   “Ah.” We stared at each other in silence before he let out a short breathy laugh. “Well, I guess neither of us are rich enough to live here anyway.” I grinned at him and nodded.

   “How are you?” I asked timidly and he gave a noncommittal shrug.

   “Alright, I suppose,” he said, “Still not much success in breaking industry.” I bit my lip, remembering the promise that I had made to him. Something about talking to Syco about a record deal.

   “Aw, that’s a pity,” I said, wriggling my fingers together, “Look, about how…how we left things-”

   “Yeah,” he blurted, before closing his eyes and nodding quickly, “Yeah I know, it wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t even a real break up, really.”

   “What?” I asked in surprise.

   “Well,” he said carefully, turning to me, “For it to be a break up, you’d have to be together in the first place, eh?” He chuckled to himself, rubbing his hand over his lips. I stared at him in confusion.

   “Sorry?” He glanced at me shortly then again, eyes slightly sceptical.

   “Oh come on Bec,” he said eventually, “You don’t need to keep up the charade. All that supposed ‘relationship’ between us, eh? Nah. I could see why. I just stuck around until I reckon you’d get bored of it.”

   “Bored of what?” I demanded.

   “Oh you know. Using me to get to that guy you liked.”

   “ _Sorry_?”

   “Really?” he said, looking amused. The doors slid open and he stepped out. “This is me. So hey, can I call you later? I miss not talking to you.”

   “Sure, me too, me too,” I said, cocking my head, “Though I think you got the wrong idea about Harry and I.”

   “Oh no,” he chuckled raising his hand to signal goodbye as the doors began to grind shut. “No, I definitely didn’t.” I blinked at my reflection in the mirror doors. Well, that conversation left me dazed.

   Sure I had suspected something when he had sneered to Haz at his birthday party,

   “ _You’re just touchy about Bec and I_.” Damn, had it been that obvious, even to my own boyfriend?

   As soon as the doors chimed open again, I squeezed my way out quickly and hurried down the corridor. With every minute, I was getting more and more fuddled. I knocked sharply on their door, waiting impatiently. I tried again, still to no avail.

   With a sigh, I wrenched open the door and stopped abruptly in the doorway. Oh god, it was completely pitch black. I fumbled around for a light switch, and found something that felt like one on the wall beside me. I pressed it, and a strange sound whirred through their apartment.

   “Who’s there?” someone called from inside.

   I stepped inside, hoping the strange sound was just the lighting system booting up. Yeah. Right. I closed the door behind me, feeling disorientated immediately in the darkness. I would probably trip over something, or break something, or run into something.

   Suddenly, the whirring sound stopped. It was completely silent.

   “Louis?” I whispered cautiously, though I was really shitting myself. I took a shaky step forward. And then another. “Louis? Are you there?” No reply. If there was someone in this apartment with me, then at least I’d hear them _breathing_. But no, all I could hear was how short my breaths were becoming, and the indicative thud of my heart as it raced along in my chest.

   I was starting to think there was no one home when the light flicked on behind me. I whipped around, saw someone standing next to the kitchen counter, and let out a scream. My hand slapped to my mouth quickly and I fell quiet. Shit.

   We stared at each other in complete silence for a few moments, before he opened his mouth slowly.

   “I heard the garbage disposal go off.”

   Who the _hell_ puts the garbage disposal switch next to the front door? Urgh, what did I even care? I folded my arms infront of my chest, something I remember my parents always telling me I did when I got defensive. The thought made me drop my arms jerkily. He raised an eyebrow.

   “Where’s Louis?”

   “He’s out with Eleanor,” said Harry, his hand dropping from the light switch. He stared at me, his other hand tightening on his grip on his towel, clutched around his waist. Great. Why was my timing so completely off? Not only had I walked in during a time when Louis was out, but he was in, and had just gotten out of the shower.

   “OK then,” I said, pressing my lips together. “Well, I’ll get going then. Tell him I dropped by.”

   “Where you going?” he asked, taking a step towards me as I turned to head back out the door. Pathetic. I had only walked a metre in the dark.

   “Home,” I said lightly, “I’m going home.”

   “Why don’t you stay and wait for him to get back?” I closed my eyes and turned back around. I opened them again, to find him surveying me closely.

   “I don’t think so.”

   “And why not?” The truth, Bec.

   “Be-because,” I said, looking him in the eye, “You’re here.” He raised an eyebrow again.

   “And?” I was beginning to get impatient here.

   “And it’s a terrible idea,” I replied sharper.

   “Because?”

   “Oh, stop dodging around it!” I snapped, breaking, and marching over to him. He wore a victorious smirk on his face. “Look I don’t want to be here, because you’re here and I don’t even want to look at you.”

   “Don’t you?” he asked slowly. Of course I wanted to look at him, what kind of sane female wouldn’t? He was practically naked, wearing nothing but a towel, and smug smirk.

   “Enough, already!” I snapped, and it fell from his face, “No more avoiding the topic. I heard what you did, today.”

   “What did I do?”

   “ _Liam_ told me,” I snarled, “You broke up with Emma. Is that right?”

   He fidgeted slightly, and leant against the kitchen counter for support.

   “Mm. Yeah I did.”

   “I told you to _talk_ to her,” I said angrily, “You can’t even follow instructions.”

   “Oh, were those instructions?” he said sarcastically, glancing at me, then back at the counter top. He was picking excessively at something on it with his fingernail. “What was the point, Bec? There was nothing to talk to her about.”

   “There was- _everything_ you could have talked to her about,” I replied, feeling worked up. One thing was floating around in my mind. “Like why you broke up with her.”

   “I broke up with her because I didn’t want to date her anymore,” he said dismissively, looking away. “Isn’t that why most people break up?”

   “Don’t be smart with me.”

   “Oh, no I’ll leave that you,” he scoffed, shaking his wet hair in my face. I shot him a disgusted look.

   “Why did you do it then?” I asked, “Break up with her? Was it because of what I said? Or did you just get bored, and leave like you do with everything?”

   “Just stop attacking me,” he said irritably, “I did think it over, despite what you think.”

   “And?”

   “There was no point sticking around.”

   “What about the stuff you told me at the retirement village?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest again. Screw what my parents said. “All those…feelings for her, but something for me?”

   He looked at the wall, then at the ceiling. He sighed, grumbled something then stared out the window. I waited. I could do this all night, if he wanted to.

   “That I do,” he said finally, let out a deep sigh. “I don’t deny it. I do like you, Bec. A lot.”

   “So what do you want from me?” I asked, tapping my foot impatiently. He shrugged. “Well, obviously you _haven’t_ thought it over.”

   “I have!” he said hotly, looking annoyed. “Now that she’s out of the way…”

   “Out of the way?” I repeated disbelievingly. I scoffed. “Wow, you know how to make a girl feel wanted, Haz.” He eyed me, and laughed, like he knew something I didn’t. It made me uncomfortable.

   “That I do.”

   “Care to explain?”

   “Nah,” he said, “I don’t think so.”

   “I will, if you will,” I offered. He paused, observing me closely. Then he nodded slowly. “Alright then. What do you want to know?”

   “I want to know who you actually truly liked. From the beginning.” _What_? What did that have _anything_ to do with this?

   “From…from the beginning,” I repeated carefully.

   “Niall. It’s always him, innit? It’s Niall. You still have feelings for him.”

   “Why do you _always_ have to bring him into this? It’s not his problem anymore! Just leave him out of it!”

   “You two spent loads of time together when you got here.”

   “Only because we still wanted to be friends, without the one being hurt.”

   “Oh? And how did _I_ fit into that?” he demanded, folding his arms impatiently. I glared at him.

   “You didn’t.” He sighed, shaking his head.

   “He still-”

   “Forget it. You owe _me_ one now,” I cut across him sharply. “Emma. _All_ of that.”

   “You want the truth about why I went out with her?” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was a _truth_ behind that part of it?

   “What is your-?” He swallowed slowly, never taking his eyes off me.

   “I went out with her,” he said slowly, “I _only_ went out with her, because I wanted…to make you jealous, Bec.” In hindsight, the statement should have sent me either running for the hills, or falling in his arms. Instead, I just felt so empty, except for that familiar ache in my chest.

   I leant on the counter for support.

   “You didn’t…”

   “I did,” he blurted, as if he’d meaning to get off his chest, “I…made up lies about seeing her when you told us you were seeing someone else. I couldn’t- be…be left behind.”

   “But,” I said weakly, shaking my head. I didn’t know what else to say. He waited for my answer patiently, but I shook my head again.

   “I didn’t even ask her out until you told me about the photographer confrontation on Christmas,” he said, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “It was… stupid. I only asked her out as soon as I got off Skype with you. I couldn’t have the papers saying all this stuff, and not even having her _know_ we were going out.”

   He let out a bitter laugh. I sat there, trying to put things into a new perspective.

   “I thought you said you had feelings for her.”

   “Yeah, I liked her,” he admitted, looking weary, “Just…not like that. Not when you were always there, and everytime I- I _looked_ at you, I felt the way I did.”

   “So you _used_ her?” I demanded, feeling the blood beginning to flow back to my brain. “To try get to me? You lied to me for what, three months, that you genuinely liked this girl? I tried really hard to accept it, I even liked her too. But what does it matter anyway? It was all a ruse. You _used_ Emma.”

   “Yeah,” he replied hesitantly. “Louis was always talking about that Lakyn boyfriend of yours, and I couldn’t sit around and do nothing.”

   “Well you seemed to spit out the lies pretty fast,” I said. Then it hit me. “Wait, weren’t you covering up for a rumour with Ellis Calcutt?” I narrowed my eyes as he nodded.

   “Yeah, Ellis was just my-”

   “Liar!” I yelled, jumping up and hitting him viciously on the arm. “How can you look at me like that and just _lie_? How can I trust any of that crap you just told me, when you continue to you spit out lies?”

   “I’m not lying!” he protested.

   “No?” I snarled, jabbing him in the chest. “Then give me your phone. Hand me your phone right now, and show me your text thread with her. Then look me in the eyes and tell me that’s nothing.”

   His face blanched.

   “How do you…?”

   “Does it matter?” I snapped, “I walked home from that retirement village in the dark, thinking that all that stuff you said about me being special might even have _some_ ring of truth to it, when I find your phone lying on the dining table, going off at some ridiculous hour in the morning, with a raunchy text from a _friend_!”

   “That’s all it was, just flirty stuff, Bec. Honest.”

   “I _read_ them,” I hissed, “That was not _flirty_ Harry. Flirty is giggling and little winks. Flirty is _not_ the same thing as sexting!” He looked at me blankly. His mouth was moving, opening and closing, eyes darting around like he was trying to find something to say in return. He couldn’t.

   “It’s not sexting.”

   “Isn’t it?” I said darkly, folding my arms again, “Not all those gushing naughty texts? Yeah. Did Emma know about that either?”

   “Of c-”

   “Of course not,” I scoffed, finishing his sentence for him. “No one knows. Not even me. I thought I’d might even know what was going on, but then I find out that there’s some _other_ girl who’s part of this too? How many more, Harry?” He avoided my eye.

   “Just…you three.”

   “Just us three?” I laughed mirthlessly. “Let me count. Going out with Emma, who had no idea the other two even existed in that way. Me, who you constantly play with like I’m allowed to be tossed around, and-!” I stopped, holding my finger up to silence him. His mouth hung open, halfway through a word. “And then there’s Ellis. I didn’t even _know_ about her.”

   “I’m a teenage guy,” he grumbled, finally having found an excuse. “What else?”

   “You don’t sext girls while dating other ones, while apparently using the one that they’re dating to make someone else jealous,” I snapped, shaking my head. My tone softened slightly. “Cor, Hazza, don’t you know I hate complications?”

   “You were just _fine_ with Niall.”

   “What did I say?” I snapped, “Let it go, Harry! Everyone’s just using him as a guilt trip on me. You’re just focussing on anything _but_ the important issue here.”

   “Oh? And that is?”

   “You used her,” I said flatly, “That poor girl. Emma. How can I even- do you expect me to…after what you did to her? I can’t support that.”

   “I only did it for you!”

   “It doesn’t matter,” I said, “Imagine if that was me, using a guy just to get on your nerves.”

   “That would be hot,” he shot back, “I’d feel wanted.”

   “Well, that’s only because you don’t care about anyone else apart from yourself.”

   “ _What_ have I been saying for the past five minutes, Bec? I care about _you_!” he cried, throwing his hands up. “Screw all the stupid stuff I did. I did it for you! And for the record, you did use a guy to try to get to me. That douchebag. Lakyn.” I felt my throat dry up.

   “That wasn’t…” I coughed. Oh Lakyn. I probably shouldn’t mention I had just run into him in the elevator. “I went out with him because I liked him. Really did. Unlike _you_ and…”

   “Don’t turn it back on me,” he scowled. “Yet you were so quick and eager to kick him to the curb at my party? If you really liked him, then you’d at least be a bit more hesitant. And don’t!” he added sharply, “Don’t give me that stuff about Louis.”

   “I don’t go around using people, and try making others jealous,” I said, “And he was my boyfriend for two months. Only two, Haz.”

   “So that had _nothing_ to do with me?” I opened my mouth then shut it. My teeth clacked against each other, as he smirked.

   “It doesn’t matter.” He sighed and looked away. I felt like doing the same thing. Arguing with him was exhausting. After a few more moments of silence, he turned to me, elbow propped up on the table, hand over his mouth. I looked back at him.

   “It’s fair to say.” he said evenly, “That…the both of us have done some things that we regret- well, things that weren’t exactly smart, or right. Can we at least agree on that, Bec? Or do we have to… keep fighting? If we have to, I think I need a meal in me first.”

   I gave a small smile, looking down at the counter top, while he made a victorious noise.

   “Ha!” he said, reaching over a poking my cheek. “I knew I’d get one out of you. Dimple buddy.”

   “Oh Haz,” I mumbled, turning to him, “Why can’t things just be easy, and uncomplicated? These things just do my head in.”

   “I know,” he said, extending his hand to me. “I know, babe.” I accepted it, and held it for a moment. He shuffled closer to me in his typical awkward fashion. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I could immediately feel the warmth off his skin from his shower.

   “You’re warm,” I mumbled.

   “Mm?”

   “Nothing,” I replied, burying my head in his hold.

   “Are you still gonna wait around for Louis, then?” he asked, his lips resting on my head.

   “I dunno,” I said, shifting my head a little, “There’s not much of a point anymore, eh?”

   “Or,” he said as I raised my head and looked up at him, “You could just…stay?”

   “Stay?” I repeated blankly. His mouth twitched. Oh. “I shouldn’t-”

   “Who am I joking?” he demanded, to no one in particular. His arm dropped from my shoulders, and he let go of my hand. “I can’t believe what I’ve got myself into. Look Bec, I have to tell you something. I just can’t… _lie_ anymore, I-”

   “Haz,” I cut across him sharply, “We just talked, OK? Don’t go and…”

   “Will you listen?” he said, “I’m telling you I lo-”

   “Stop it!” I said, taking a step away. I couldn’t bear to hear those words. “No, I’m _leaving_ , Haz. I’ll see you later.”

   “Bec!” he yelled, his hands clenched into fists, “Goddammit you arrogant BITCH! I LOVE YOU!” I heard those three words before, slip from another’s mouth. That only ended in heartbreak.

   “No,” I whispered, and I shoved him in the chest furiously. “You’re an idiot! Take it back!”

   “Are you crazy?” he said in disbelief, “Did you not _hear_ what I said, or do I have to yell it again? I LO-”

   “Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, “You realise once you’ve said that, you can’t go back?”

   “Well I just said it, didn’t I?” he laughed, and it struck me that he must have fallen over and hit his head in the shower. “I love you, Bec Lowthorne! Every single part of you! Every time I’m with you, I’m just…well, not happy, I’m me.”

   “That’s ridiculous. _Stop_ _it_.”

   “I know we don’t get along like two peas of a pod, or birds of a feather, or leaves of a…whatever the fuck,” he said dismissively and I snorted. “But what does it matter? When I’ve done everything I can to show you how much I care?”

   “Using other people for your own means, you reckon?”

   “If it meant that maybe, I could love you, why not? And guess what? I _love_ that it’s obviously killing you.”

   “What, that you ‘love’ me?” I cried, “It’s not funny, Haz, I mean it. You don’t understand what it’s like to love somebody.”

   “And you do? With _who_? That Lakyn guy, did you love him?”

   “No,” I scoffed. Yeah it was true, I didn’t love him. Who was there to kid anymore?

   “Then…” he hesitated, and stared at me. I felt something harden in me. I knew what he was going to say, and I felt myself instantly sturdy and close off. “Then it was Niall? You loved him?” My throat was definitely dry now.

   “Of course, he’s my best-”

   “In Sydney,” he said, advancing on me. “I mean, in Sydney.”

   “Harry…”

   “Well?”

   “I loved…I loved _you_ in Sydney,” I whispered. He went considerably pale.

   “ _Me_?”

   “Yeah, but I wasn’t gonna see you again, was I?” I said bitterly, folding my arms over my chest. “It was a passing phase. Then I got here, and realised how stupid I’d been.”

   “For loving me?” he said quietly, “Am I that embarrassing, then?” I rolled my eyes.

   “You’re not _embarrassing_ ,” I replied, “Just…no one can expect me to love them, and I can’t expect anyone to love me. That’s just how it works.”

   “What happens when someone _does_ love you?” he asked, “Someone, say, me?”

   “You don’t.”

   “Because we fight?” he demanded impatiently, “Because we cuss, and swear, and argue, and cry like five year olds? You think I don’t _love_ you, because of that? And I don’t mean as a friend, Bec. I mean as genuine person, I love you.”

   God, I needed Louis. I was hardly holding myself together.

   “Since when?”

   “Since I first laid eyes on you?” he said derisively. “But you were Niall’s girl, then. I thought that there was no way we could ever work out.”

   “So what changed?” I snapped. His eyes widened slightly.

   “I made you break his heart,” he answered in a low voice, “I made you break it, and I dived in when you needed someone.”

   “So you _used_ me too?”

   “No. I loved you. Screw it- I _love_ you.” It was all happening too fast for me to comprehend. I stared at him for moments too long for it to be comfortable. This was what I always feared when it came to guys. If they said something like this…what could I possibly say? That kind of shit only ended in heart break of marriage.

   I took in a heavy breath, as I watched his expression slowly chill.

   “You can’t expect me to-”

   “To love me back,” he finished, looking disgusted. “Yeah I know. It’s because you can’t even love yourself.” I wanted so badly to say something to comfort him, but he looked like he’d just come down off a high. His expression was full of bitter resentment.

   “Harry…” I began, but he interrupted me flatly, without even looking at me as though he might be sick if he even tried.

   “Get out of my apartment, Bec.” I stared at him for a few moments; his hair flopped down over his eyes, picking at his fingers distractedly. I grabbed my stuff and walked out. I knew he had every right to be pissed off at me.

   “ _I love you_!” I could still hear him say it. No, no. That wasn’t right. I couldn’t be _right_. There was Harry, and then there was me. And then there was _us_ , a concept I never really understood.

   But now, he’d just put it on the line for me. That proud son of a bitch had just told me that he loved me. And what I done? Just shoved it back in his face. How many times had I done that to people I actually cared about? Only one other name surfaced to mind. A name, that right now, had already been over discussed.

   The cold night air hit my face and I shivered involuntarily.

   If only I could count the times he had just repeated those words to me. Those words which were so perfect falling from his mouth, but so wrong to hear by my ears. It didn’t make sense anymore. He couldn’t love me.


	21. Chasing Cars

_Present Day  
late February/early March, 2013_

 

   Things can happen within minutes, and the effects can last for years.

   “ _That_ ,” said Tian, emphatically, “ _That_ is exactly the sort of attitude you cannot go into this exam with!” I made a despairing noise, curling my bare toes against the grass. I looked up at the dying sunset.

   “I haven’t studied enough,” I said, wrinkling my nose, “I’m not ready for this.”

   “It’s your first semester exams,” she sighed, shaking her head, “You’ll be just _fine_. You won’t fail, Bec, it’s not in your nature. And if you do stuff up, you can always re-sit them.”

   “Urgh,” I moaned, throwing my head back, “I can hardly survive the thought of going through _one_ exam period.”

   “It’s normal for undergraduates to freak out,” she said, waving it off dismissively, “No one ever pays attention to your semester results.”

   “Um, I do!” I said, sitting up agitatedly, “And my _teachers_ should!”

   “Alright, calm down,” she said assuringly, “You can’t come all this way to London U, then suddenly think you’re not capable enough.”

   “Oh god!” I cried turning around and burying my head in my bag, which I had been lying on. “What if they revoke my scholarship?”

   “Bec, you’re going mad,” she advised, as I rolled back onto my back, staring at the sky, which had turned a rare pale blue. I raised my fist to my chest. “What are you _doing_?”

   “Hmm? Oh. It’s play-doh,” I said, holding my hand out to her but she recoiled, wrinkling her nose.

   “It’s alright, I can smell it from here.”

   “What, you don’t like play-doh?”

   “It smells _terrible_.”

   “No!” I gasped, momentarily distracted. “It smells like a childhood!”

   “Yes, your childhood,” she replied carefully. “But hey, if it keeps your minds of exams, then who am I to judge?” I groaned and sunk back onto my back. We were sitting out in the green lawn infront of the university library, books left abandoned on the side, just talking.

   Most people were inside the library studying, cramming for exams. The entire usual buzz of the place seemed heavily subdued under the threat of looming exams. I let out a deep breath, curling my toes again. The grass was surprisingly soft. The large clock tower chimed to 4 o’clock.

   I had spent the last two weeks procrastinating, until about four days ago when I realised that studying would probably be a good option. But I still had classes to attend, so the few breaks I had in the middle, I rushed to the library to study. Now, I was just tired and my head hurt. I needed more aspirin.

   “I need a break.”

   “You do.”

   “Are you going out tonight?” I asked, glancing at her. She nodded, just I spotted James Logan jumping one handedly over the railing towards us. She whipped around, her swishy hair moving flawlessly. She should be in those Garnier Fructus ads.

   “Hey baby!” she said happily, as he sat down next to her cross legged on the grass, dumping his bag and books on the ground beside him.

   “Hello James,” I said mellowly.

   “Hi,” he said, leaning over and kissing Tian on the cheek. “What you guys up to?”

   “Bec’s fretting over exams,” Tian said in a doubtful voice.

   “What? You? Undergrad,” he muttered, shifting his stuff over. “You got nothing to worry about, kid.” I scowled at him, but he replied with a grin.

   “How’s Lakyn by the way?” I asked curiously and his smile dropped. Gotcha.

   “I haven’t talked to him in a while,” he replied, “Wait, actually I did the other day. He landed a big gig. But shouldn’t you know that?”

   “What?” I laughed it off, “We’re not going anymore. Didn’t you know?” His eyes widened considerably.

   “You’re not?”

   “No,” I scoffed, “We broke up about a month ago. Don’t worry, no need to control your enthusiasm on my account.”

   “I’m not happy that you broke up,” he replied with a hardly suppressed grin. I rolled my eyes.

   “Well you can make it up to me by taking me out tonight,” I shot back.

   “Taking you out?” squeaked Tian in surprise. “You mean that you actually _want_ to go partying or clubbing?”

   “Sure,” I shrugged, “Haven’t been out in a bit.”

   “Oh, that’s fantastic!” she cried, wrapping her arms around me like I had just returned from war. “God, we’ll have so much fun.”

   “Calm down,” I laughed, “It’s not like I haven’t been out in ages.”

   “Really?” she said, looking at me disbelievingly, “ _Really_? When was the last time you went clubbing?”

   “I…” I trailed off. Truthfully, I can’t even remember. Did Harry’s party count? “A, a- month, I think?”

   “Oh Bec,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Come along, it’ll take your mind off stressful stuff. Like exams.”

   “We’re going to this new club tonight, it’s called _Lascivious_. Juicy, eh?” said James with a mischievous grin. Ew. How could a girl like her _possibly_ be dating a guy like him? Some things just confounded me.

   “I’ll come then,” I huffed, sitting up and adjusting my bag slightly to get it in a more comfortable position underneath me.

   “So what, you’re not gonna hang out with those boys from One Direction?” I paused and looked up, shaking my head with a quick smile.

   “Oh no,” I replied immediately, “They’re busy. I don’t get out much anyway, what’s the harm?”

   “No,” said Tian lightly, “No harm. You can just forget all your worries and _relax_ for once.” To be honest, I hadn’t relaxed in a very, very long time.

 

***

 

_“I don’t see how you can hate from outside of the club. You can’t get even get in!”_

   “I’ll never get sick of this song!” I yelled to Tian as I hopped away from her, grinning madly. She, as per usual, was attached to her Mr. Precious. I didn’t care tonight; it was one of those rare times where I let everything else take control; the drink, the music, my body. It was all crazy.

   I hadn’t gone off like this since…well, Harry’s party I suppose. But then according to everyone else, it was just a ruse to make him jealous right? There was nothing better than to keep him off my mind that noisy music and unidentifiable people raving around me.

   Instead, I just saw them as a mass who couldn’t judge me because they didn’t know me. So I just danced.

   The night melted away to the morning faster than I cared to notice. In fact, Tian grabbed my arm at one point and yelled over the music that she and James were gonna get going. I just giggled and yelled back,

   “Don’t be too noisy!” She shot a concerned look, but the two headed off anyway. I could tell it was starting to get ridiculously late- or early either way, when the crowd started to thin out. I strode over to the bar, head spinning, feeling slightly light-headed.

   “Cranberry vodka,” I slurred, trying to remember how drinks I had so far. It can’t have been _too_ many. 

   “ _One love, this is the way we found. One love, even though they’ll let you down…”_

“ _I’ve tried playing it cool.”_ I frowned, glancing over at the dance floor, wondering why someone was messing up David Guetta. “ _But when I’m looking at you-_ ” I jumped abruptly, nearly knocking over my drink. I grabbed my bag and started fumbling through it for my phone, which embarrassingly enough, still had _One Thing_ as its ringtone.

   The bartender shot me a judgemental look- screw him, I didn’t care- as I finally found it and answered it shakily.

   “Hello?” I said loudly through the phone, trying to tune my ears to hear something quieter than the blast of 1000 decibel club speakers. “…hello?”

   “Bec!” I heard someone say on the other end, very faintly. I closed my eyes, rubbing them for a moment, before wrenching them open again and yelling into the phone,

   “Hello?”

   “Bec, it’s Liam!” How fitting.

   “Ello Liam,” I said with a dopey grin, “Wassa matter?”

   “Where are you?” he asked, “We’re at your apartment now, but apparently you haven’t come back.” Ah, poor Tian and James. Rudely interrupted.

   “No, no,” I laughed jubilantly, “I’m still out, partying.”

   “Partying?” he repeated in a worried voice, “Where?”

   “What’s it to you?” I demanded, just as a guy sat down next to me and shot me a charming smile. Well, wasn’t he attractive? He nodded towards my empty glass and I nodded, with a wink. He bought me another drink.

   “Bec? Really, we came over to invite you to come to a recording of a new single.”

   “Hmm?” I said, feeling dazed and slightly confused. “What’s the time, then?”

   “The time?” he said, sounding slightly exasperated, “About four thirty. Where are you?”

   “Four- four thirty?” I said, and I burst out laughing, before burying my head in my arms. “Oh…oh god-”

   “Tell me where you are,” he said, “We’ll come and pick you up.”

   “We?” I said, sitting up and grabbing the drink the stranger had bought me. I probably shouldn’t have, but I downed in one go. Argh, my throat was burning like a fire. What _was_ that stuff? “Who’s we, Liam?”

   “Just us boys.” I paused, squinting at the top row of bottles of liquor lining the bar, trying to focus my muddled mind. “Hello?”

   “Does that mean all five of you are gonna see me in this state?” I asked vaguely.

   “State?” he repeated, sounding slightly hysterical, “What state?”

   “Really,” I laughed, shaking my head, “Liam, I’m still out at what, four thirty, in the club. What kind of state do you think I am?”

   “You have _everyone_ worried,” said Liam sternly, sounding as if he was disappointed in my behaviour. Well that was something I was used to. Judged by Liam Payne. “Which club?”

   “Lascivious.”

   “ _Sorry_?”

   “Just hurry up,” I groaned, hanging up on him. About fifteen minutes later, he barged inside, looking like he’d just sped through north London at 4:30 a.m.

_“Forget them other boys, baby, forget them other guys, yeah I see your nose ring, might as well be a bullseye.”_

   “Bec!” he called, wrapping me a surprising hug. I just stood there and let him hug me. He was fluffy and warm, he smelt like washing detergent.

   “That was fast. Did you use a GPS?”

   “I googled it on the way here,” he replied, pulling away, looking disgruntled. “God, you reek of alcohol.”

   “No!” I spluttered defensively, staggering back slightly, “I’m actually relatively sober. See, I’m talking to you right now normally. If I was drunk, I wouldn’t even be making sense.”

   He stared hard at me for a second, then looped his arm around my shoulders and started guiding me towards the door. I sighed, giving in. So much for a night of relaxation.

   I had to face it, that those boys were always going to be around for me now. Even times when I didn’t want it, and especially times when I needed them more than I cared to admit.

   “ _Everybody here knows…she looks like sex, sex, sex…_ ” I heard him make a disgusted noise, and he rolled his eyes as we walked past the bouncers. I waved goodbye to them as we emerged out into the street.

   “When was the last time you went clubbing, Li?” I asked curiously as he looked nervously up and down the sidewalk, even though it was completely deserted.

   “Hmm?” he said. “Oh. Probably Harry’s party.”

   “That doesn’t count,” I replied scornfully, “You need to relax.”

   “You need a shower,” he countered and I made a face. “Oh, there they are.” He pointed over at a limousine that they always seemed to ride in when they were out together on business. I could see the four others gathered around it, hands in their pockets, waiting patiently.

   “Oh god,” I moaned, freezing and burying my face in to his jacket, “Ew. No, they can’t see me like this.” It was one thing to be judged by Liam, mostly because he was just like a dad. I don’t know if I could stand being judged by any of the others.

   “Come on,” he said, gently exasperated, “They won’t judge you.” Was he a mind reader, or what? “We’ve all been drunk once, haven’t we?”

   “You haven’t,” I shot back, watching his mouth crinkle into a line. Louis must have finally noticed us standing there, but he started waving manically. The others looked up as well. “And I’m not drunk!”

   “Hush,” he soothed, taking my hand, “Let’s go, Bec.” Grumbling to myself, I accepted his guidance across the street and we approached the four.

   “Bec!” said Louis immediately pouncing forward and hugging me. I felt Liam’s hand slip from mine, but I clung onto it desperately like a life line. “…what have you been drinking?”

   “Cranberry vodkas all night,” I huffed, “No shots, I swear.”

   “Well, you’re past tipsy, that’s for sure,” he grinned, and I noted what he was wearing; a thick dark blue woollen hoodie with faded jeans and a pair of maroon Converse.

   “What you wearing?” I asked, “What’s this, are you paying a visit to the homeless shelter?”

   “Oh, yes and you can talk,” he shot back, eyeing me up and down, “Who you dressing up for, babe?” I caught sight of Harry behind him. He met my eyes for a moment, then dropped his gaze. Urgh. I couldn’t even bare to think whether I had any right to be angry at him for the moment, but by my gut feeling, I probably didn’t.

   “No one,” I said, defensively, looking back at Louis. “So you guys were going to drop in by my place at four o’clock in the morning to awaken me rudely and drag me off to listen to you lot sing?”

   “Yep,” he replied.

   “Grow some balls and get me some water,” I muttered, punching him in the shoulder. He made a wounded noise and climbed into the limo.

   “It’s not just any song,” said Niall, stepping forward, and his hand automatically fastening onto my elbow, as if to stabilise me. “It’s special, eh?”

   “Whatever you say,” I mumbled, ducking my head subconsciously. “Really, I don’t know if I should, Nialler. Have you _looked_ at me?”

   “Oh he’s looked at you,” said Liam, with a hint of a smirk. Niall glanced at him, the edge of his mouth twitching slightly.

   “What?”

   “It’s the campfire song,” he blurted, before pressing the edges of his lips together slightly, passing it off with a shrug. “Just…thought you’d want to listen.”

   “Of course,” I said quickly. “I’d…of course.”

   “Great,” he said, brightening with his straight smile. “Let’s go, then!” He disappeared into the limo and I looked around, only finding Liam who I was still fastened onto like we were glued, and Harry.

   “Where’s Zayn?” Liam didn’t reply, so I stared at the latter. His hands were still tucked in his pockets.

   “Sleeping,” he said flatly, stepping forward and climbing in without another word. Liam blinked, before looking at me.

   “Hey,” he said, sounding confused, “Is there something…has he mentioned anything to you at all? He’s been pretty out of it lately.”

   “He’s always out of it,” I replied snarkily. It was true, so why deny it? And it wasn’t like I was going to tell Liam about what had happened in their apartment. It was possibly even worse than the clubbing.

   “If you say,” he sighed, nudging me with his hip. “In you go.” I slid inside, to find myself sitting next to a snoozing Zayn. Harry was sitting on the opposite side of the limousine. Hmm. Well, as it were, I wouldn’t have it anyway. I avoided his eye the entire trip, listening to Liam, Louis and Niall exchange meaningless chat, as Zayn rested his head on my shoulder and continued to sleep.

   He looked so innocent when he slept, but he did look painstakingly good as well in a grey jacket with a high collar, and blue jeans.

   We finally arrived outside a large building, which turned out to be the recording studio.

   “Out we get,” sighed Liam, climbing out. Why did he feel like there was a need to announce everything that we did? I tried to move, but Zayn grunted and his grip around my waist tightened. I squirmed slightly, but he made a crazy moaning sound like I was trying to chop his arm off.

   “Zayn!” I hissed gently as possible, poking his cheek. “Wake up, w-”

   “ZAYN GET UP!” yelled Louis and Zayn started abruptly. “God, don’t you know it’s bad manners to sleep on a lady?”

   “Oh, what?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up wearily. He squinted at me for a moment, before his gaze widened. “Bec, you’re here!” he said weakly.

   “Hey Z,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck hugging him lightly. “You get a good nap in?”

   “Yeah,” he said, looking slightly sheepish, “Sorry about that.”

   “That’s alright,” I said, and he climbed out after Liam. Louis shot me a grin and whispered confidentially,

   “You can make it up to me by telling me about your Holmes Chapel expedition.” I rolled my eyes, thinking that sometimes I was so thankful that he was gay. If it was any other guy, it’d probably be ‘you can make it up to me by sleeping with me’. But then again, I had learnt that these five boys shared everything, didn’t they?

   Liam wrapped his jacket around my shoulders chivalrously, because it was getting bloody cold. It turned out that their recording studio was actually pretty cool; it wasn’t some big industry place lined up with dozens of microphones and instruments, and sound rooms filled with a gazillion buttons.

   It turned out, it was just a friends’ loft that happened to have all the basic stuff. We took the creaky old elevator up, and as the grill slid open, I looked around. It was just old redone brick walls, high ceilings and old furniture.

   “ _This_ is where you record all your singles and albums?” I asked incredulously, gazing up. “Everything?”

   “Mhmm,” replied Zayn, who was far awake now. “Even a few from Up All Night.”

   I was introduced to the owner, Andie; a kind lady with greying hair and chocolate eyes, who sat me down on the couch, wrapped me in a giant blanket and handed me a bowl of hot chicken soup and a glass of water like I was a sick dog who had showed up at her door. Meanwhile, the five of them set up, adjusting their five stools and their microphones.

   I sat there, huddle in my blanket with my food as she told me to ask if there was anything else I needed. I understood why the boys always wanted to record here.

   They warmed up a little, as I slowly took a few sips of water to try fend off the fast approaching head fucks I was gonna get from my all-nighter at the club. They did a test run with their voices as I got up and wandered around the small loft a little bit. I glanced out the window, clinging to the blanket around me, watching the sun beginning to rise above the London skyline.

   At about 6, they started to sing. I settled back down on the couch, folding my legs and watching, anticipated. Andie was sitting in the separate sound room to the right, the five of them just sat on five bar stools with microphones infront of me on the couch, completely honest. It was unbelievable to think that soon, millions of people would be listening to what I was hearing right now.

   Liam cleared his throat, before singing in his earnest voice,

   “Saw you across the subway, you were looking right back. Eyes locked, time stopped, but we were broken again.” Oh. Oh I understood now. Niall’s eagerness. It made sense. The campfire song.

   “Remember in high school, when I first met you? I thought we’d have it all to ourselves. But ooh, did you think I could stop a heart thief?” Zayn sung, in his perfect pitched melody. He still looked like he might fall off the chair and go right back to sleep.

   “And I thought I could call you mine,” they all sung, the harmonies of their voices mixing perfectly. With Harry here, I realised, the song was finally complete. “You were standing there looking so damn divine. You told me you were done with that, I was the fool for believing all the crap. I thought you said you’d be true…you spent me tripping, tripping, head over heels for you.”

   I know it was just a song, but for some reason, all I could when I heard was think about Sydney. About Niall. He had written it, hadn’t he? It was made to make me feel guilty. Wait, what? God Bec, get over yourself!

   “I can’t believe I fell for those lies, thought I saw something in your eyes. You caught me by surprise, twisted my heart in your hand until I died,” Niall sung. His voice hadn’t changed in all the time I had known him, and for that I was thankful. Another stupid thought crossed my mind. What if he had written the song about me?

   “I never saw him coming, now he’s taken you and he’s gone again. Wish I could rewind, so take me back, take me back, please,” Louis, hitting a high note impressively.

   The four launched into the chorus again, a powerful melody. Harry called out his part, his voice ringing above the others.

   “I’ve locked myself up and away, and I’m asking myself why didn’t I love you better? And I was so dumb to walk away without a fight, because looking back, I don’t think it’d matter.” They fell silent.

   I had promised myself the first time I had heard it, that I’d be ready for the coda to come, for those words and that guitar. But in Niall’s arms, there was no guitar, instead, just his firm gaze.

   “And I wish I had, one more day with you. And I can still feel your touch, god when I’m with her, yeah I’m wishing it was you.” My breath caught in my throat. Could I ever prepare myself for how unhinging those words were to me? Those blue eyes were fixed on me as though I was the last thing to ever leave his sight.

   The final chorus ebbed away; just I felt something rising up in me. No, I wasn’t being weak or pathetic as usual. It wasn’t some unbearable emotion. I was going to be sick. I threw the blanket off me and sprinted across the loft in my heels towards the bathroom, as I heard Liam call out my name.

   I had barely gotten through the door and to the toilet, when it was all coming back up. Argh, the burn. Gasping, I rolled onto my ass, massaging my throat, which was absolutely no help at all. I had just pressed the flush button when the five of them all simultaneously barged in, looking worried as hell.

   “Bec, are you OK?” demanded Louis, squatting down next to me.

   “I-I’m fine…” I got out weakly.

   “Do we need to take you to the hospital?” asked Liam. “You don’t look good.”

   “I’m fine!” I protested.

   “Y-” Clearly exasperated, I had enough of them for the moment.

   “Out!” I screeched, pointing at the door, feeling overcrowded in the tiny little bathroom with all five of them. “Are you- all of you, out!”

   “She means you,” they all said loudly, pointing to each other. “No, she means- y..!” I made an angry noise and buried my face in my hands, bringing my knees up to my chest.

   “What are you boys doing?” I heard Andie call. She barged past them and leant down, observing me.

   I was thankful as she ordered them out. She leant down and handed me a box of tissues. I blew my nose on them and washed up my face as she retreated outside. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I looked peaky and just plain tired. To think I was taking my exams tomorrow. Oh god, my exams!

   I was tempted to try sneaking out and getting back as soon as possible to get studying and revising, but my complaining headache didn’t agree with the plan. I rinsed out my mouth excessively, kicked off my shoes and picked them up in one hand. I opened the door slightly, looking around. I could hear them talking to Andie, but they seemed preoccupied by the song production to notice.

   I crept out, noticing my chicken soup left lying on the table. I scooped it up and downed it all in one thankful gulp, before regretting it. I felt slightly nauseous again, as I gripped my stomach and swayed back and forth. Breathing in heavily, I forced myself to open my eyes again and looking around.

   I saw the door to the outside balcony as a chance to get a breath of fresh air, so I ducked outside on to the cold stone. Unlike the one outside my dodgy apartment back at London U, this one had a sense of homeliness to it. I hung over the edge, just watching the sunrise slowly. Sickeningly, I could still taste the faint bitter tang of vomit in my mouth.

   I turned at the source of noise, Louis sliding out through the door after me. Sighing and wishing I had savoured the solitude, I smiled at him, shoes dangling from my hand, chicken soup in hand.

   “How you feeling?” he asked, striding over and wrapping his arms around my waist, pressed against my back. I made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “Good.”

   I scoffed.

   “Was our song _really_ that repulsive?” he asked and I rolled my eyes.

   “Your song was fantastic,” I said, my voice almost catching on the end of my sentence, which him raise an eyebrow. “Really. That one will go straight to number one, for sure.”

   “You said the same about _TGE_ ,” he chuckled.

   “Well it did, didn’t it?” I shot back and he let out a puff of air next to my ear which made me shudder slightly.

   “Sorry.” I looked at him over my shoulder and laughed. It sounded hoarse, lower than usual and my throat ached slightly, but I laughed regardless. “What?”

   “Nothing. You’re just the only person I know who’d apologise for something like that.” He smirked at me and I turned back around.

   “You said you’d visit,” he added after a while as I took a gulp of chicken soup. “Why didn’t you?” I did, Louis.

   “Mmm,” I said, “Sorry, I didn’t get around to it. My exams start tomorrow, you know?”

   “Really?” he said, not sounding overly interested, or overly believing, “But you had enough time to go clubbing?” I grumbled, forcing myself to turn around and face him. I stood between him and the concrete balcony block overlooking the street. “Look Bec, I’m not gonna interrogate you, but I go out, then I come back and-”

   “Yeah,” I breathed heavily, glancing at a spot of his head. “I stopped by at your place once. But you weren’t there, so I left.” That was the truth, or the vague one anyway.

   “Oh?” he said in a mock thoughtfulness. I just fixed my gaze on his side swept hair. I loved his hair, good god. “And was there anyone there when I was out?”

   “Yes,” I mumbled, with a shrug. I looked down distractedly, raising one leg so it bent at the knee and bumped against his hip through his woollen hoodie. “Just Haz.” He looked down as well and made a frustrated noise.

   “I’m not straight,” he sighed, “No point trying to distract me, Bec. What did you say?” I ignored his question.

   “Nothing.”

   “Don’t try-”

   “Honest, it was _nothing_ ,” I said defensively. “We just talked a little, and then I got going.”

   “So you talked? You said that you weren’t going to talk to him,” he replied, looking surprised. “Not after something that apparently happened when you went to Holmes Chapel.”

   “Many things happened,” I answered vaguely, not really feeling like specifying. I ran a hand through my hair slowly, trying to appear thoughtful. “Too many to remember.”

   “You’re unbelievable!” he said, his hands fastening on my hips. “God, sometimes I wonder if I’m straight.”

   “You’re not,” I assured, rolling my eyes. “So can we forget this, then? I don’t want to talk about it.”

   “Then at least tell me what you talked about with him then,” he replied, “Not just in Holmes Chapel, but back here. Why were you so stubborn?”

   “I’m always stubborn,” I shot back, my fingers curling around the baggy edges of his hoodie. “He just did some stuff I wasn’t happy with him about.”

   “What, was it family stuff?” asked Louis, looking irritable. “I should have warned you, he hates it when people try get involved with _that_ business.”

   “No, no,” I said quickly, “Nothing to do with his family. I mean, they were sort of roped in to it eventually. Even his poor gramaw…”

   “Wait,” said Louis, grabbing my hands. I looked up at him. “You got meet Haz’s gramaw?” I looked back down and shrugged.

    “Yeah, well I was supposed to meet her with the rest of the family,” I admitted, “But the plans got changed a little.”

   “And?”

   “I met her with just him,” I recalled the cold night, with retirement villages and stolen bicycles. “I think, he…was reading poetry to her.”

   “You don’t understand,” said Louis, shaking his head slowly and looking at me in what I could only call alarm. “No, _no_ one meets his gramaw. He wouldn’t let the boys meet his gramaw. He wouldn’t let _me_ meet his gramaw.”

   “Well, I wouldn’t let you either.”

   “Piss off!” he said mockingly and I smiled. “Really, don’t you understand what a big deal that must be to him?”

   “No,” I said slowly, “He never mentioned…no.” I looked up to see his slightly angry face, as if realising I had skilfully managed to avert the topic of conversation once again.

   “Why were you pissed at him, Bec?” he demanded drawing his hands away from me and trying to move away, but I clung onto his dark blue woollen hoodie tightly.

   “No,” I whispered, pulling him back closer to me. “Lou…”

   “I mean it,” he began angrily, “You tell me now, or I’m walking away.”

   “Alright!” I exclaimed weakly, shaking my head. “Just listen and I’ll tell-”

   “Lou?” Harry’s voice carried and both our heads turned towards the door. Louis quickly stepped away from me and I dropped my hands from his front hastily. We stood there like guilty teenagers, much like the time when he had walked on us in the bathroom.

   “Hey, what’s up, Harry?” said Louis, trying to sound casual, but he was clearly ruffled. I was ruffled myself. I was attracted to him no doubt, I mean Louis was a seriously good-looking guy, but what had just happened? He was _gay_ right?

   “Nothing,” Haz replied, his gaze flitting to me for a second. “Andie’s let us out. We’re gonna go get breakfast, then come back and have another crack, hopefully this time without the sound of running heels in the background.”

   “Sorry,” I chimed in. He ignored me.

   “Maybe I’ll catch up with you guys,” replied Louis, bless his soul. “I might stay here with Bec, send her home soon.”

   Harry stared long and hard at the two of us, to a point where I think it had turned into a glare, when he looked down at his feet, shuffled them and walked away. I let out a heavy breath as he disappeared, as though I’d been holding it in all that time.

   “What was that?” demanded Louis, looking even more caught off than ever. “I know Haz was…you know, all funny around you. But that was out of line, he just tunes out like he’s been doing a lot lately.”

   “Lately?”

   “I presume, since you guys talked?” he said, sounding annoyed. “He just locked himself in his room all night, like a little kid throwing a tantrum.”

   I blinked weakly. Had I really made him act like that? I guess if I had done the same thing as he had, I’d be reeling from rejection too. But I hadn’t _rejected_ him, surely he knew?

   “Bec, he’s my best friend, and so are you. Don’t you think I deserve to know what’s going on?”

   “You do,” I sighed, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips and leaning back against the concrete railing. “I just feel like he wouldn’t want me to say anything.”

   “How would you know, he’s not even _talking_ to you is he?” continued Louis madly. I almost recoiled, and his voice softened slightly as he stepped back towards me. “Bec, come on.”

   “Louis,” I whispered quietly as he leant closer to hear me. “Lou…he broke up with Emma because- well, because of me.”

   “You?” said Louis, snapping back and staring at me in shock. “What you talking about?”

   “He said something about _u-using_ her to get to me,” I stammered, feeling nervous. My fingers fumbled over each other, numb from the morning cold. “That he only asked her out to make me…”

   “Jealous?” he finished, looking incredulous as he slowly sat down on the deck chair. “I didn’t think that…”

   “I didn’t know,” I said desperately, “But when he took me back to Holmes Chapel, the whole time it was just him making moves on me, and I got so _angry_ because he always talked about how happy he was with Emma, but it turned out to be all just _lies_ …”

   “Is that why you left?” I nodded slowly. “Oh, babe.”

   “It’s nothing, now I think about it,” I said bitterly, pulling on a loose thread on the waistband on my jeans. “Nothing compared to what happened after that.”

   “Hey,” he said gently, getting up and standing back infront of me again, so his chest was pressed firmly against mine. I sighed, comfortable with the feeling of close warmth again. “Hey, it’s OK. You have to remember it’s just Haz. That’s who he is.”

   “But this isn’t who I thought he was, Lou,” I said. He looked at me almost pitifully.

   “You know him just as well as the rest of us,” he reassured. He was definitely a mind reader. “He could have done far worse.” I shrugged and looked away, unable to help myself from squirming slightly. His hand fastened around my chin and tilted it upwards to meet his eye. “But that’s not all, is it?”

   “That’s not all,” I said quietly, forcing myself to look Louis in the eye. Blue-grey. Not bright as Niall’s, but pearlier. “Louis, he told me he loved me.”

   The shock in his face was almost comical.

   His jaw dropped; he looked like someone had just punched him in the stomach and he couldn’t breathe any air in. His hands froze on mine and his eyes flitted around my face, as if searching for any giveaway signs that it might have been a joke.

   “You-” he began hoarsely, before swallowing. “You’re being serious, Bec?”

   “Of course,” I said in a pained voice. He blinked, then started laughing loudly, shaking his head.

   “Sorry,” he choked, “I thought you just said that Harry told you he… _loves_ you?”

   “He did,” I said impatiently and he stopped abruptly.

   “It’s not a joke.”

   “Why would I _joke_ about something like this?” I demanded angrily, folding my arms over my chest, but he grabbed them and held my hands tightly, looking me in the eye.

   “ _Promise_ me that he those exact words?” he said, searching my face again. I rolled my eyes.

   “I can’t even count the times he said it!” I replied, “I even told him not to say it, because you can’t take something like that back, but he-”

   “You told him _what_?” barked Louis, cutting across me sharply. I pressed my lips together.

   “I told him not to say that he loved me.”

   “ _Why_ would you do that?” he said, sounding derisive and tugging my hands. “Are you crazy, Bec? Haz- he doesn’t love anyone!”

   “He loves you,” I pointed out, but he merely made a contemptuous noise.

   “Of course he does,” he replied dismissively, “But does that mean that he says it? He loves all five of us, but that’s the extent. And _you_!” He grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around to he was leaning against the concrete railing and I was standing infront of him. “You told him _not_ to love you?”

   “It’s a defense mechanism,” I said weakly, but he snorted.

   “So what did he say?” he asked, “After you told him not to love you?”

   “He didn’t care!” I said, throwing my hands up and he just stared at me, gobsmacked. “It’s not funny, because he kept going on about how he…he can’t, Lou. I could see it in his eyes, he doesn’t believe it himself.”

   “Yeah,” he said for a moment, “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, if it makes you believe it, Bec. I can’t believe he…are you _mad_? So he told you he… _loves_ \- oh god, I can’t even say it!”

   “It was stupid, and immature,” I snapped, “He only did it…to make sure I wasn’t still angry at him.”

   “But then why is he angry at you?” Louis demanded, looking confused and I shook my head firmly, marching up to him.

   “You can’t tell _anyone_!” I hissed, grabbing his baggy woollen hoodie. “Not a frigging soul is going to hear about this, do you understand?”

   His mouth open, he stared at me. He was thinking, and I knew that wouldn’t end well. I shook him slightly, but he didn’t respond. He blinked, realisation spreading across his face, just as I had feared.

   “Did you not say you loved him back?” he whispered. I opened my mouth and my heels slipped from my hand, clattering onto the ground and on his feet. He let out a shriek and hopped around, as I stood there, not knowing whether to be apologetic or not. “G- _why_ would you…?”

   “Lou?” We glanced up; Louis clutching his feet, me standing there looking shocked with my heels lying on the ground, rocking back and forth on my heels, but frozen on the balls of my feet.

   Louis just gaped at him like he was a completely different person. I wanted to hit him over the head, because it was so obvious, that even someone so oblivious like Zayn would have seen it. He was looking at his best friend like he didn’t know him, because of me.

   Harry’s gaze finally landed on me, demanding an explanation in their unflinching, indestructible directness. It was all I could do to look back in them and not to crumble. Not only had I humiliated him, but now I had told his best friend.

   “Haz-” began Louis weakly, but fury bubbled up in his expression and he stormed away. Louis let out a deep breath, but I barged past him, back into the apartment, trying to catch him.

   “Harry!” I called, bustling inside, “Harry, _wait_!” I looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen.

   “Bec?” I turned around to see Niall, Liam and Zayn approaching me, looking confused, clutching their breakfasts.

   “You alright?” asked Niall, looking concerned, a giant breakfast burrito halfway on its way to his mouth.

   “I’m fine,” I waved it off casually. I was far too used to having people concerned about me, mostly because of my general mental wellbeing. “Where did he go, I can-?”

   “Bec, there’s no point,” said Louis, propping himself up against the door to the balcony, looking slightly out of breath. “There’s…no point.” I looked at him desperately, but he shook his head, staring at me now like I had been dropped from an alien mother ship. “What were you thinking, babe?”

   “Me?” I said, before pointing at him accusingly, “I _saw_ this happening, you siding with him! How is this any of my fault?” All he was look at me sadly. Disgusted, I turned away and headed towards the exit.

   I knew he was going to tell the others. Even Harry knew it. Then they would all mob him, and try to get it out of him; how he was feeling, and the whole big deal. I didn’t care that I had left my shoes on Andie’s balcony. She could have them if she wanted.

   Much like I didn’t care that I had left my mark in One Direction. I could walk away, and they could talk about me or bag me out or forget all they wanted. Especially, _especially_ Harry Styles. In fact, for god’s sake, I hope he did. Then maybe he would have less a reason to rightfully hate me. 

 

***

 

   “You have two hours to complete your exam. Good luck, you may begin.” I hated those words; but as I gripped my pen tightly in my left hand and flipped the exam paper over, I realised that more than anything, I hated the exams themselves.

   My head was still hurting as though the hangover was still present, even though it had already been two days. Probably from pulling that uncomfortable all-nighter. I took a deep breath and squinted at the first question; something excessively complicated and long-winded. I couldn’t even focus properly to dissect the question.

   That was when I realised to what extent I was properly screwed. My fingers clutched the edge of the table tightly, making my knuckles white, and my head pounded wearily. I willed myself to power through. My pen hovered just over the paper, deciding what I could possibly start off with.

   So I began to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys please leave comments!  
> will reply and leave comments on any authors works :)
> 
> I NEED OPINIONS IM SORTA LOST ON WHERE TO TAKE THIS STORY D:  
> if you read then you know it ends with bec finally kissing niall  
> i mean FINALLY after all this time!
> 
> what do you guys think should happen??  
> keep reading <3
> 
> much love  
> xx


	22. Nobody Knows

_Present Day  
late March, 2013_

 

   Bounce the ball thrice.

   Watch it closely, when you throw in a straight high line above your head.

   Raise your racquet as you do.

   Hit the ball as it reaches the height of its ascent.

   I let out a grunt, as I served the ball and it landed successfully in the opposite court. I barely had time to revere in my momentary happiness, when my opponent easily returned it with a short forehand volley.

   “Shit!” I got out, racing to the front of the court and managing to return it, but the shot was slow. She could smack it right in my face if she wanted, but she took mercy and sunk a flat perfectly aimed and executed forehand in my undefended base line.

    I groaned and slunk off to the side, grabbing my water bottle and chugging down half its contents. I turned as she approached.

   “Jem, I swear,” I panted, supporting myself on the bench, “Just…forget architecture and become a professional tennis player. Or ass kicker. Or both. Please.” She shrugged casually.

   “I’m not that good,” she said, and I rolled my eyes, wondering when she’d stop putting herself down if that meant she might insult me. “There are so many players who are much better than me. But I _do_ like the sound of an ass kicker.”

   I smirked and sighed, sitting down on the bench.

   “I miss spending time with you,” I commented, “Since you and Pete…” She looked at me with raised eyebrows. “I’m not disapproving! No, I think you guys are great together. But Tian and I miss you.”

   “Ti sees me every day at lectures.”

   “Exactly! I don’t,” I pointed out, taking another sip. “You live with him now then, aye? We sort of use your room for dumping all our stuff in.”

   “I don’t mind,” she said, “I mean, if Pete kicks me out or we break up…”

   “Don’t say that,” I said quickly, “You won’t. And please, don’t bring him back to our place either. I already have to deal with Tian and James Logan going at it next to every night in the room across the hall.”

   Jem pulled a face.

   “How are they then?” she asked, sitting down next to me and propping her racquet against her seat. “Still in that ridiculous honeymoon period?”

   “I don’t if it’s still considered a honeymoon period,” I said, scrunching up my face. “I mean if it is, then they’ve had a four month honey moon.”

   “Oh, it’s different for different people,” said Jem dismissively, “What about _you_ then? I heard from Ti that you had some guy from your hometown not so long ago?” I laughed.

   “Hometown?” I repeated, “God, no I don’t have a _hometown_. James introduced me to him actually, at a gig.”

   “Oh, he’s a musician?”

   “Singer songwriter,” I said, “We still chat, of course, but we broke up about a month ago.”

   “Why?” she asked, “Was your honeymoon period two days, or something?”

   “Oh no,” I said with a shrug, “I don’t know. There wasn’t really any honeymoon feeling with him. Don’t get me wrong, he was great. Everywhere.” She laughed unexpectedly and slapped me on my arm.

   “Bec,” she gasped, sliding down in her seat, “You’re unbelievable. Why haven’t you gotten a man, yet?”

   “Single and ready to mingle for now!” I replied brightly as possible. To be honest, it was far easier just to tell people that than the complicated truth- or whatever was going on in that department.

   “Do you have your eye on anyone?”

   “Not anyone in particular, no.” I took another sip and the conversation momentarily subdued until she brought up the dreaded topic.

   “Hey, your exams are over now right? How did you go?”

   “Oh yeah,” I said, feeling like a giant burden had just been dropped onto my shoulders. “I- they’re over. I don’t think I did particularly well, or anything. I’m pretty worried; I’ve got that scholarship to uphold.”

   “Bec,” she said reservedly, “They wouldn’t have given it to you in the first place if they didn’t think you could do it.”

   “That’s what everyone says,” I muttered, chewing on the nib of my bottle.

   “Come on,” she said, pouncing up again, “Let’s go another set! I lead 6 love, 6 love!”

   “No!” I moaned, “No, the game’s over. Three sets, that’s all I agreed to Jem. Don’t make me work anymore…”

   “Fine,” she sighed, “I’m gonna go shower, I’ve got some classes later. You coming?”

   “Mm?” I said glancing up at her, “Alright. The rest of my day’s free, but I’ve got work later.”

   We walked together up towards the housing block, but we parted when she headed towards Pete’s block instead. I wondered how it would be, living with a guy, not to mention all his mates that he roomed with. From a guess, it must be pretty depressing.

   I hummed to myself thoughtfully as I strolled up the stairs at a leisurely pace. I nearly collided into someone again, and I was surprised to see who it was.

   “Roofie?” He pulled his earphones out of his ears, jogging on the spot, and panting heavily. “Aren’t you out a little late?”

   “It’s only two in the afternoon,” he said in his Scottish accent. “It’s nice to see you too, Bec.”

   “How were your exams?”

   “Good, I think. They were alright. You?”

   “Erm…fantastic,” I coughed. “Well, where you were then…” He started to jog back down the stairs, when he turned and called out,

   “Wait, Bec!”

   “Mm?” I said, turning around and facing him. He was still wearing those Lycra shorts.

   “When you see Tian, can you tell her I’m sorry?”

   “You’re sorry?” I repeated, “Why?” But he had already shoved the earphones back in his ears and jogged off. Confused, I continued up the stairs, trying to possibly think why Roofie would have any reason to be sorry to Tian. Those two had nothing in common. Unless…

   I increased my pace slightly, jogging up the steps before breaking into a faster sprint.

   I ran so fast that I nearly collided into the door. I banged on it a few times impatiently, but I ended up fumbling around for my keys, cursing. I had just grabbed them when the door opened. Tian stood there, with red eyes, wearing her old pyjamas.

   My suspicions had been right, after all.

   “Tian…” I said quietly, stepping inside. She let out a quiet, dry sob as she wiped her cheek hastily. “Babe, what happened?”

   “He- he…” she began weakly, before she started crying. “J-James…” Of course it was him. It would always be him, the one who I had hardly dared to believe to be able to maintain a fairly stable relationship. I always thought he was a half-decent guy, despite how I treated him.

   But all that was pushed out the window, when it came to break ups. Some of them you couldn’t just pick sides, but here my choice was easy.

   I wrapped Tian in a tight, squeezing hug and let her cry into my shoulder. After a while, we sat down on the sofa, her still sobbing and me offering her box after box of tissues. Eventually, being Tian, she regained her ability to talk and began to whimper and moan about how he had broken her down.

   I sat there, nodding sympathetically and listening to every word, until it was time for the ice cream.

 

***

 

   “You can’t possibly say that was better than _the_ _Notebook_.”

   “Nearly, I said nearly,” I replied defensively, “The ending of _the_ _Notebook_ was disappointing though.”

   “What, when she dies in his arms?” cried Tian in shock.

   “No, no,” I backtracked quickly, kicking myself. “When Allie choose Noah over her rich fiancé. I mean, no complications after that. The drama could have been longer aye?”

   “Who would want more drama?” she demanded, rubbing her nose with a tissue before tossing it into the bin. She grabbed the tub of honey ice cream from me and shovelled in another mouthful.

   “Now you’re eating like a champ,” I said proudly and she made a disgusted face at me.

   “I can’t believe you eat like this every day.”

   “But don’t you feel exquisite?” I asked in a prissy voice. She rolled her eyes and nudged me with her elbow. “So, which movie next?”

   “I like the look of Friends with Benefits.”

   “Terrible break up movie,” I said, snatching it out of the pile. She narrowed her eyes and sat up defiantly.

   “Hit me what you got.” I rolled my eyes and she grabbed it back from me, walking over and shoving it in the DVD player. The opening credits had just started rolling when there was a knock on the door. She grabbed the closest duvet and dove underneath it with a moan.

   “No one can see me like this,” she said in a muffled voice. “Please, Bec. Whoever it is.” I got up and walked over, ready to shoo away whoever was there. I peeked through the eyehole, but as reliable as university housing was, I couldn’t see a bloody thing.

   With a sigh, I undid the latch and opened the door a tiny fraction.

   “Hello?” I said carefully. Someone was standing there in the darkness, clutching themselves tightly and shivering.

   “H-hi? Bec, is that you?” It was a familiar voice, but I couldn’t quite place it. As they stepped closer, the light from inside fell on their face. Oh of course I knew that voice.

   “Danielle?” I said incredulously, “How did you…?”

   “Can I come in?” she asked, timidly glancing inside, “It’s pretty dark and cold out here.”

   “I- of course,” I said, wrenching the door open the full way and letting her step through. “Sorry.” I was surprised to see her. In fact, I had only met her once, and that was more than a month ago at Harry’s party.

   “It’s alright,” she said lightly, looking around as I closed the door behind her.

   “So,” I said, “What’s, uh…is there something wrong? Did Liam tell you where to find me, then?”

   “No,” she replied, turning to me. “No, Niall did actually.” I was going to strangle him. Now all of them knew where I lived, and worked, and had classes. They were legitimate stalkers.

   “Oh.”

   “I came here to talk to you about Harry.” I recoiled at his name instantly. For the last few weeks, I had successfully avoided any contact with the five of them, mostly because they hadn’t tried to contact me either, which I didn’t blame them for.

   “I don’t think so, Danielle. Sorry,” I replied stiffly and she shot me a surveying look.

   “Well, then you don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” she said, leaning against the kitchen island. “But will you listen?”

   “To what?” I asked warily, just as Tian barged in, clutching the blanket around herself and looking angry.

   “ _WHO_ did you invite in?” she yelled, before pulling up short and staring at Danielle. “And who are _you_?”

   “Tian, this is Danielle,” I said quickly, hoping to avoid some dramatic confrontation. Tian looked on edge as it were already, probably ready to go picking for a fight. “Danielle, Tian. Danielle’s, uh…”

   “A friend,” she finished. “Just a friend.” Tian narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

   “We just need a moment alone to chat, alright?” I said calmly as possible, “I’ll be back in a minute, I swear, Ti.” She glared at us, before shuffling back through the door, mumbling,

   “Whatever.” I waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to Danielle.

   “As you can see, I’m sort of busy right now,” I sighed, “Maybe you could just…?”

   “Liam’s told me about how you tend to avoid things,” she cut across me, sitting down at the table, before leaning over and patting the seat across from her. “Come on, Bec. Girl to girl.”

   Nice new campaign strategy to get across to me, Liam.

   Giving in, I sat down opposite her.

   “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

   “Harry,” she said simply, before holding her hand up to stop me from talking. “All I know is that you two aren’t in the best place right now.”

   “Eh,” I grumbled, slightly annoyed, “Everyone always just wants to talk about Harry. The goddamn prodigal son.”

   “Ever since a few weeks back, he’s started getting pretty out of hand,” she said leaning back in her chair. “Despite what you think, Bec, Liam didn’t send me here to try to talk to you. I came here by myself.”

   “Why?” I said in disbelief. “Haz isn’t your worry.”

   “He’s part of the band as well,” she said, “He’s a good friend, Bec, and I just don’t want all this going too far and possibly hurting someone who doesn’t need to be hurt.”

   “So then what’s he gone and done now?” I asked impatiently. “Another dirty deed than can be passed off on my lack of empathy for him?”

   “Well, it started off like some harmless fun,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. “Partying out every night, a bit more than usual. He’d drag the other boys along too. I mean, I stop by their place sometimes to pick up Eleanor, but every time I stopped by, he had another girl.”

   “ _Sorry_?”

   “You heard me, Bec,” she continued wearily, “I can’t count all those girls he’s brought home. One after the other, haven’t you seen the news?” She pulled out her phone, scrolling through the online news articles, showing them to me. I watched, slightly horrified as my vision flickered from each to each.

   HARRY STYLES SNEAKS GIRL BACK INTO APARTMENT.  
   LATE NIGHT VISITOR FOR ONE DIRECTION BAND MEMBER.  
   EARLY MORNING COFFEE WITH A NEW LOVE AFFAIR.

   “So…” I said hesitantly, trying not to appear too concerned. “So, he’s got an active sex life. What’s that got to do with me?”

   “Active?” she repeated disbelievingly, “This isn’t active, Bec, it’s unhealthy. It’s been like this for weeks on end.”

   “Is that all?”

   “He’s getting more and more reckless too. He took Louis out go-karting the other week, and the two ending up trashing the place. He bought another Audi, and then he took it for a drag race at three in the morning. He was fined, nearly lost his license- are you _getting_ this, Bec?”

   I blinked at her, obviously appearing as incompetent as ever.

   “What is he doing?” I said in an angry low voice. “That- _what_ is he…?”

   “Bec?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

   “That fucking idiot!” I yelled, making her start. “I told him, no? But he won’t _listen_ …” I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I had told him to stop using people. I had refuted him for trying to use Emma to get to me, if that was even the genuine truth or not.

   Now, what was he doing? He was going out, and using people all over again. They were just disposable things to him. This time, he wasn’t even using them to try making me angry. He was just being himself, and taking it to a whole new extreme. I let out an angry sigh, scratching at the table absent-mindedly with my finger.

   “W- why haven’t the others tried to stop him?” I asked, not looking at her. She could tell I was furious.

   “It’s Harry, you know?” she said gently, “He won’t listen to what anyone says, not even to them.”

   “That’s just like him,” I said bitterly, grinding my fingernail into the old wood. “He cares about nothing but himself.” Danielle went silent, and I glanced up at her distractedly. She was watching me with a strange look on her face.

   “You do care, don’t you?” she asked quietly, “About him. You pretend not to, but I can tell you do.”

   “W- of c…of course I _care_ about him,” I said with a slight blush, “He’s my… I care about him, just like I care about all the other boys.”

   “But you and him…?”

   “We’re nothing,” I said flatly. “I thought I made that clear to him to last time we spoke.” As soon as the words slipped from my mouth, I regretted them. It was suddenly clear to me, why he had gone and done all that shit. And for once, it was actually my fault.

   “Bec?”

   “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “His…problems are his problems, alright? I don’t really want to talk to him at all, or see him. He hasn’t changed a single bit.”

   “It’s been three weeks,” she replied dubiously, “I don’t think anyone will change that quickly.” I had enough so far.

   “ _Please_ ,” I moaned, “Can you not understand with a shit pile I’m in right now?” I guided her towards the door and she obliged, still regarding me with a mixed expression, caught somewhere between disgust and concern.

   “So, you don’t love him?” she asked as I wrenched open the door and nudged her outside. I froze and stared at her, my mouth open in confusion.

   “You…?”

   “You know!” I said, pointing at her, “Don’t you? Urgh, you k- oh my god, who else knows?”

   “No- no one!” she protested, “Just the boys, Eleanor and I. And maybe Paul. And Simon.”

   “W-” I began weakly, never having realised the full extent of it. “Paul? Simon too? What the _fuck_ …”

   “Bec, why are you upset about this?”

   “Because I have every right to be!” I snapped defensively, “It’s all about _me_ innit?”

   “But it’s mostly about him.”

   “Yeah, and look at the way he’s coping with that!” I spat, standing up. “I’m sorry, Danielle. Harry can go and screw up his life whatever way he wants, but it’s not my problem.”

   “He did sort of…”

   “I told you before, I’m sorry,” I remarked in a removed tone. “But what he’s doing has nothing to do with me. Boys will be boys.”

   She looked down and pulled out a pile of letters, handing to me. Presumably, she had picked up my mail for me on the way up. Urgh. Just like Liam, I had no right to be upset with her, and she was far too decent.

   “Is he still a boy, in your eyes Bec?” she asked, standing out in the biting cold and darkness. “He’s nineteen. He’s not a kid anymore.”

   “Well, he’s certainly acting like one!” I spat, closing the door with a sharp snap. I took in a heavy breath, turning and pressing my back against the door. Slowly, I let my legs give away as I slid downwards, until I sat on the floor, my head between my hands.

   I looked at the letters in my hands, sorting through them, looking for important documents. I set two aside for Tian, one for the housing bills, and one more from the scholarship department. I stared at it, feeling a cold sweat break out on my skin.

   Shakily, I tore the envelope open and took out the letter, scanning it briefly.

 

   _Dear Ms. Rebecca Lowthorne,_

_It has come to our attention that the requirements for maintaining your Academic Degree Proceedings Scholarship have failed to be properly fulfilled in your recent semester examinations. Attached are your examination results, all of which were unable to meet sufficient standards that must be upheld in order for the scholarship to be continually funded by the university in your name._

_It is with our greatest regret that we inform you that your scholarship has been officially revoked._

_If you have any questions or inquiries, please contact the Administration Office. Otherwise, your term at London University will finish at the beginning of June, 2013._

_Condolences,  
   London University Scholarship Department._

   If it was possible to die on the spot, I would have done it. If I had a gun, there was not the slightest trace of doubt in my mind that I would have grabbed it and shot myself to put an end to the misery. But now, I couldn’t. Instead, I had to face the all-consuming pain and deal with it.

   My hands were trembling so hard I couldn’t even hold the paper properly, and uncontrollable tears were rolling down my face. My knees gave way and I practically collapsed onto the floor, trying hard not to being to sob. I saw Tian walk in and regard with shock.

   “Bec!” she shrieked, waddling over, still wrapped in the duvet. “Oh my g- babe, speak to me!”

   She slapped my cheek sharply and I scrunched up my face, before burying it in my arms and giving in. It was all over now. I was evidently too stupid for this- university, running my life like I was supposed to. I’d be kicked out, sent back home to Australia, where I’d probably go to a community college or TAFE or just become a prostitute.

   “Bec!” Tian cried in clear alarm and distress, “What…” She trailed off as she delicately plucked the letter from my weak grip. I watched as her eyes scanned the letter and her face fell. “Oh my god…”

   Yes, ‘oh my god’ just about fitted that part of it. My lips moved deftly and I managed to blurt out,

   “Read me my results.” She looked at me in reproach, as she flipped over the paper and scanned the page.

   “I- I don’t think that’s such a good idea, babe.”

   “Read them!” I yelled, before feeling so emotionally and mentally exhausted that I just collapsed on the floor again. Carefully, she sat down next to me, cross-legged on the floor.

   “Advanced Literature,” she said quietly, “Grade…C. Mark, 63.” My heart plummeted. But I nodded vigorously for her to continue. “Advanced Society and Culture- grade D. Mark, 52. Preliminary Law Studies. Grade…fail. Mark, 48. Advanced Law Studies, grade fail, mark 37.”

   How could I have possibly done any worse? God, London University have been embarrassed that they even gave me a scholarship in the first place. She sat there silently, and I lay there on the floor, thinking to myself. Eventually, I sat back up and looked at her.

   “Well,” I said, surprising myself at how calm I sounded. “That’s that, then.”

   “That- that’s that?” she repeated disbelievingly, brandishing the letter in my face. “Are you joking? No! Go talk to the Admin Office, let them let you resit your exams again!”

   “They won’t let me,” I said scornfully, shaking my head. “It’s over Ti. It’s…all over.”

   She rather firmly and calmly accepted that her break-up shenanigans were abruptly put to a stop for now, and actually helped me get into bed. Even when I woke up the next morning, I felt sick in my stomach. It occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be here much longer.

   Oh god, what would my _parents_ say? I could just imagine their faces- embarrassed, disappointed, disgusted…and after gracing the news occasionally with my involvement with the boys, that was possibly just more reason to possible disown me.

   My life was just descending into an inevitable downward spiral towards a quick arrival at rock bottom. Halfway through a bag of crisps, I also realised that time left to me was brief, so I might as well go out with a bang- right? I spent the rest of the day slowly writing a list as it came to me of all the things I had to do before I left London.

   I didn’t bother to go to my classes because well, what was the point seeing as I wasn’t even going to go here for much longer? Instead, I dressed up in the knit that Liam bought me for my birthday, a pair of jeans with wedges and went for a walk around the city. I barely had time to observe the strange beauty of it all.

   Around lunch time, I bought fish and chips, with an ice cream from Mr. Vallesconi who I bought one from on my walk with Liam. I sat on the pier, swinging my legs and just thinking to myself for a while. Today was a Thursday; it was Thursday the 28th of March, which left just about two months left here. I pulled my 21-point long list out of my satchel. Well, it was a little less than 21-points seeing as there were a few scratched out.

   The clouds began rolling in at about 3 in the afternoon, but I managed to get two points off my list- to have Devonshire tea and scones, and to go shopping in Shoreditch. As rumours confirmed, Shoreditch was a hipster district, which was potentially disastrous seeing as I was about as mainstream as possible.

   I missed sunset, but I managed to catch a cab back to the Thames and see the London Bridge going up in the twilight. Rather satisfied with my day’s work, I started walking back around senselessly hoping to find something interesting to do. That’s when it started to sprinkle lightly.

   It didn’t bother me at first. To be honest, I didn’t mind rain that much. I took a long walk down the River Thames, which took easily a couple of hours. I found a lovely little kebab shop and had a late dinner. Overall, the day was quite enjoyable. Afterwards, I just kept walking to where my feet took me. The feeling of not knowing what would happen next was exhilarating.

    In fact, I had my iPod in as I strolled along, when my shuffle landed on _Same Mistakes_. It almost made me smile, but mind you, it sort of hurt. That song meant something to me, and the problem was, all I could process in the night rain was his voice.

   _Find out what went wrong without blaming each other._

   Sighing, I tucked my hands deeper into my pockets and kept walking. I really should tell the boys that I wasn’t sticking around for much longer. At the moment, that would be the best option. Then they could forget about me, and Harry could go back to that reckless lifestyle he so badly missed when he was with me.

   _Or else we’ll play, play, play all the same old games. And we wait, wait, wait for the end to change…_

I mean all I had done since coming into their lives was cause them drama. Where would I be if it weren’t for them? I admit; there was a part of me that willed myself to enrol for a scholarship at London University. If it weren’t for them, would I have still have done that? Who knows.

   _Closer, maybe we’ll be closer, stronger than we were before, make this something more._

   What did I even care about him anyway? Harry had started out as a strange guy I never truly appreciated, or knew, but somehow that had all abruptly changed in a matter of frenzied minutes? I sped up my walking pace slightly.

   _Think that we got more time when we’re falling behind_ , _gotta make up our minds._

  Same Mistakes. The song which I never fully understood suddenly made sense to me. That’s all I had been able to do around those five idiots- make stupid decisions that only broke their hearts, and broke them down.

   Well, OK, I hadn’t gone in and chopped every single one of them up emotionally. But I had successfully ruined innocent Niall’s outlook on well, everything. I had turned him into the darker person he was today, who maybe didn’t trust as easily, or look at his band mate in the same way.

_That’s what crazy is, when it’s broken you say there’s nothing to fix_

   I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and sped up as fast I dared on the slippery sidewalk. Harry Styles. That was one thing that I never expected to gain from everything I had been through. I had…well, there wasn’t a right word to describe what had happened between us in Sydney. Then I got here, and after proceeding to hurt Niall, I had consciously dragged Stylie back and forth from hell and back.

   But could I face him properly after…our last confrontation? It took me back to what Louis had said. Did I love him back?

   _Don’t look back, but if we don’t look back, we’re only learning then, how to make all the same mis- same mistakes again._

   I stopped and looked up and down the street, before fleeing across it towards the gold set, brightly lit building. I darted past reception, because I wasn’t in the mood to talking to anybody. There was a certain despair bubbling in the pit of my stomach, but I found that, the only person I wanted to talk to now was him.

   I jabbed the level seven button and stood in the elevator, arms folded. It took its time, but _Same_ _Mistakes_ was still blaring in my ears. It ended just as the doors slid open and I tore down the corridor, towards his door. I collided into it roughly, out of breath and upset. I smashed on it impatiently with my fist, bellowing,

   “HARRY! LET ME IN!” It didn’t open, but I continued to beat it relentlessly, my breaths eventually turning into dry sobs. I surprised myself at how much energy I had at this time of night, usually I’d be passed out in my apartment and sleeping by now. “HARRY!”

   Out of patience, I shoved the door open and stumbled on the threshold. I pulled up short at the sight of him, shirt open, leaning over a girl that he had pressed between him and the kitchen island. She turned abruptly; I saw the blonde hair and immediately thought of Emma. But as I squinted at her, I could tell how very different they were. This girl had large lips, thick long hair, round eyes. Obviously embarrassed, she dropped her hands from him, mumbling excuses.

   “S-sorry, are you…?” she got out weakly, but I ignored her and merely stared at him. He stared back at me, with a hint of wariness in his expression, and even the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. I could just see it in his face, how hard he had hit the alcohol tonight.

   “Harry,” I began, swallowing, but he dropped his hands from the blonde’s waist and stepped away from her; towards me.

   “What you here for, Bec?” he asked, with a dozy smirk, “Back for more of this? Pity, since I’ve got many others who’d happily get some.” Yes it was Harry, but at the moment, I was torn whether to be upset, or to be amused that he thought that currently, I was ‘back for more of this’.

   His lady friend looked slightly disgruntled at this.

   “What’s going on?” she demanded, apparently having regained her reverie. “Harry, who’s this?”

   “No one.”

   “Lying again? Can see that’s taking you places,” I shot back.

   “Many places,” he smirked, “Places I have been denied up til now. Would you like details then, Lowthorne?” I scowled.

   “Lowthorne,” murmured the blonde, fury in her expression, “Well then can you ask her to get out of here, Hazza?” Sickening. Hazza. No one called him that apart from _me_. He still ignored her.

   “So what do you want?” he sneered, “Did you come to apologise and beg for mercy, or to try fix everything now that you realised it’s all broken?” I didn’t say anything, because that was _precisely_ everything that I had come here to tell him. He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly.

   “I want to talk.” He scoffed and shook his head disbelievingly.

   “Bit late for that, innit?” he muttered, turning away from me. Furious, I looked around desperately and the first thing I could get my hands on was a telephone book. I hurled it at him and it smacked in the back of the head.

   “Don’t walk away from me!” I yelled at him furiously. His lady friend looked genuinely terrified by now.

   “I’m outta here,” she said, shooting him an alarmed stare, but he didn’t even bother to look at her as she grabbed her stuff and fled out the door.

   “Well done scaring yet _another_ person off.”

   “I’m great at that,” I snarled, narrowing my eyes.

   “Who told you then, was it Liam?” he said, “Did he go running to you about how ‘unstable’ and ‘out of order’ I was? Well piss off, cos there’s nothing to worry about here. In fact, I’m just enjoying life while I have it.”

   “If you enjoy it any longer, there won’t be much left to enjoy,” I scowled, “And it wasn’t Liam. It was Danielle.” I saw genuine surprise in his distorted face.

   “Danielle?”

   “Yep. She came and told me about all the stupid shit you’ve been doing lately.”

   “Oh, she’s perfect for him,” he smirked, more to himself than to me, “And it’s not stupid shit. This is me, who I am, can you not deal with that? Then piss off.”

   “Harry!” I snapped, “Will you listen to me? You can’t keep doing all that stuff! Acting on impulse, you could have been _killed_ in your car, and destroying stuff while dragging Louis in to this…”

   “Hey,” he snapped, pointing at me with unfocused eyes, “ _I_ wasn’t the one who dragged Louis into this. If I should remind you, it was _you_.”

   “Why, because I told him about you said to me?” I cried, “I’m sorry, Harry! I know it was stupid now that everyone knows, and it hurts because I didn’t say anything back! But, you can’t just go out like this and do all this crap! I’m _scared_ for you, Haz. You don’t get how much I regret it, alright?”

   I hadn’t realised how desperate how I had begun to sound until the very end. He stared at me blankly.

   “You don’t get how much I regret it either,” he said flatly. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. “I don’t, alright? Whatever crap was coming out my mouth was just nonsense.”

   “W…”

   “You were hoping it was truth?” he leered at me, stepping closer. “Well you had your shot at this. Now whatever the _fuck_ we were in the first place- that’s done with. It’s been a _year_ since I met you, and I’ve waited around all that time for you to make up your mind.”

   “I know,” I began desperately, but he cut across me.

   “Now I’m having fun and doing all that stuff that I’ve been missing out on,” he continued, looking immensely pleased with himself. “You had your go, now it’s time for the rest of the female population to have a go then, eh?”

   “Haz, don’t say that,” I said, my voice catching in my throat.

   “I’ll say what I want to say!” he said, raising his voice, and I could smell the alcohol in his breath. “I’m finally enjoying myself, and you come in here to try and _apologise…_ ” He laughed manically, and I recoiled. Because he was right.

   “It’s…” I said weakly, “I know I can’t apologise for something like that. Not when-”

   “You humiliated me?” he demanded, “You didn’t even _understand_ what I might possibly have done to get that out of me? What it meant to me?” His tone was incredulous, disbelieving.

   “I was in shock, what could I do?” I said defensively and he scoffed.

   “Well, to start, you could tell me you love me back.” I gaped at him like a fish, as he looked at me expectantly, before shaking his head scornfully. There was a look of permanent disdain on his features. “Who am I joking? This is Bec Lowthorne here!” He laughed humourlessly.

   Great job, Bec. Wound him again, why don’t you?

   “N-”

   “Forget it,” he replied bitterly, “How can I love someone like you? What was I even _thinking_ in the first place? I must have confused you for someone I’ve slept with before.”

   Bam. Another strike. I shook my head slowly, trying to register the venom behind his words and the pain at the same time.

   “Let’s face it, maybe you were right, all that stuff you were saying in the retirement village? You’re not _special_ , let’s not kid ourselves here! You’re not famous, or specifically good at anything, in fact,” he stepped closer to me and reached out, taking a strand of hair between his fingers, “You’re not a particularly pretty little thing, are you?”

   I felt a deep wounded breath me and he sneered at me, apparently satisfied. I pressed my lips together, willing not to cry despite the tears welling in my eyes.

   “Sort of common,” he noted in a casual tone, “Plain, really. Are you that bright, either? I don’t think so.”

   “Harry, stop-”

   “Stop what?” he demanded with a sneer, “Telling you the truth? Well this is what I think, alright? You’re _plain_ , Bec, I really don’t know what I even saw in you in the first place. Probably…I don’t know, the fact that you were taken was the biggest bite.”

   Right there, something deep inside wretched and twisted itself into an unbreakable knot.

   “I really don’t even know what I was thinking,” he muttered, shaking his head, “You? I mean, I could have anyone. _Anyone_. But you, you’re a… _nobody_.”  

   I took a defeatist step back, but somewhere in his mind, he found the strength to just keep powering through at me. I wanted to push him away, I wanted to block my ears and not hear another word. But I was completely frozen, under complete horror. This wasn’t the Harry I knew.

   “You know it, don’t you?” he said loudly, a cruel smirk on his lips. He took another step closer to be, closing the small gap I had created. “It was _far_ too easy to get you, I mean one moment, you were Niall’s, the next moment you were so eager to get in bed with me, but you still blame me?”

   Gasping, I felt my back collide into the wall behind me. He pressed his body against me, and for once it felt like an invasion more than anything. I was used to feeling warm from head to toe, to feel turned on and needy. But all I could think was how wrong it all felt- the things he was saying, the smell of his breath in my face, the uncomfortable proximity of our bodies.

   “You were the easiest person I’ve ever scored. You don’t make it hard, do you?” he leered and I shoved him off me in a moment of brief strength and managed to escape through the door. I could hear him yelling obscenities after me, but I stumbled down the hall blindly, colliding into a wall and spinning off, before smashing into the opposite one quite skilfully. Back against one of them, I slid down, crying my eyes out and not really caring anymore.

   He knew better than anyone else, didn’t he? So if he didn’t believe those things, then why would he say them? Then I could only assume one thing. He believed every word he had said to me. I cradled my head in my hands, my vision swimming as though I’d been disorientated by a physical strike. No, not physical. Only emotional. Who was I joking? I was a complete wreck.

   My hearing must have gone a little fuzzy too, because I heard a muffled noise, and I looked up, to see Liam standing there, looking totally bemused to find me sobbing outside of Harry’s apartment. I got to my feet too quickly, and nearly tripped over my own feet. He caught me quickly, holding me in his protective grasp.

   “ _Bec_?” Liam whispered looking down at me in shock. “I heard a commotion from…” It was so unnerving how this situation gave me a sick sense of déjà vu. One time, I had gone running down a hallway and he had managed to catch me before I fell. But this time, I wasn’t chasing it; I was running from it.

   “Help,” I bleated, burying my face in the front of his jacket. In his grace, he held me even though he was probably disgusted with my immature crying, but it didn’t matter. All I could hear in my ears were Harry’s burning insults.

   I was only half conscious as he lifted me in his arms and carried me back down the corridor, mumbling comforting things that my mind simply blocked out. It was too weak to process anything apart from the pain.

   I knew I was being dramatic because that was the only thing I was good at you, but goddamn it, he knew were to hit me where it really hurt.

 

***

 

   “Just let me talk to her.”

   “Mate, I don’t think that’s a great idea at the moment.”

   “Who are you to say, Liam? At least let me see her.” The sound of agitated voices awoke me, but I rolled over in an unfamiliar bed and buried my face in the sheets, not wanting to listen but not really having much of a choice.

   “Leave it be will you?” Louis. That was definitely him. “Did she say anything last night?”

   “Nope.” Liam. “Whatever you did to her, it messed her right up, Haz.”

   “You happy?”

   “I’m not bloody happy about anything!” I almost felt my inside scrunch up. All I could think of when I heard that voice now was pain. “But I just…need a _chance_ to explain myself to her.”

   “Well, maybe you should wait until you’re mildly sober and not so hung over.”

   “I’m sober.”

   “Clean yourself up Haz,” Liam replied again. “I don’t think Bec’s ready for you yet. Whatever you did.”

   A pathetic moan escaped my lips, but I managed to muffle it in whoever’s sheets I was wrapped in. I suddenly became aware of someone else in the room. Slowly, I raised my head and squinted in the bleak white morning light shining through the transparent curtains.

   “Babe?” his whisper hit my ears before I saw him. I cocked my head in confusion, struggling to sit up slightly. “No, no, lie down. ‘s OK.” I saw Niall reach out and gently brush a loose strand of hair from my face as I lay back down on the bed.

   He was sitting in a chair next to bed, looking completely wiped, wearing an oversized woollen sweater with jeans. Screw Louis. Niall looked absolutely gorgeous in it. He was also sporting his white socks, with a baseball cap and his little clover necklace dangling on his neck.

   “You don’t look great.”

   “Can’t the same about you,” he said quietly, scuffing my hair lightly with a tired smile. “Stayed up all night watching you.”

   “What?” I said, my eyes widening in surprise. “You- no! Why?” He grinned as he leant back in his chair, propping his legs up on the bed over my legs. I groaned.

   “Liam wanted a watchful protector over you.”

   “Oh, so he chose _you_?”

   “How you wound me!” he said mockingly and I rolled my eyes, scoffing into the pillow. “I’m a great night-watcher, just letting you know. I did not fall asleep _once_.”

   “Thanks,” I replied wearily, “I’ll think of you next time I need someone to babysit my garden bed.”  He laughed, that throaty one which hitched up at the end. Urgh. I was not in the mood for being whipped around in Niall Horan. But then again, I wasn’t in the mood for thinking much either.

   “I think it was mostly to make sure you didn’t thrash around in your sleep and break something.”

   “I’m no psychotic sleep walker,” I groaned, glaring at him as much as I could, which probably wasn’t the slightest bit intimidating to him. “Why would he do that?”

   “Maybe he wanted to make sure you didn’t jump out the window,” he smirked. Hmm. Interesting how he dodged around mentioning last night much at all.

   “And you, what do you think, Nialler?” I mumbled, burying my face in the pillow.

   “It has its rewards,” he replied cheekily, nudging my butt with his foot affectionately.

   “Hnnnng, go away. I want to sleep.”

   “Well, I suppose Liam won’t be getting his bed back tonight then.”

   “Hmm?” I asked drowsily, slightly confused.

   “You do realise you’re sleeping on his bed?” he asked with an amused expression on his face, a big grin spreading on his lips. “He slept on the couch last night, poor buddy.”

   “Aw Liam,” I moaned into the sheets, knowing he was far too nice for his own good sometimes.

   “You’re not the only one whose yelled that into the sheets.”

   “Eurk!” I shrieked, sitting up, “Oh my god, shut up Niall! That’s _disgusting_ , I can’t even think- don’t even…”

   “Oh calm down, babe,” he laughed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, which made him look almost adorable. “Just go back to sleep, unless you want to get up and restart World War Three outside.” I threw myself back down on the bed and let out a slow moan, trying not to think of what he had just pointed out must have occurred multiple times on that bed.

   “I can’t sleep.”

   “Course you can,” he said lightly, sitting up in his chair. “Unless you’re hungry?” I laughed, shaking my head into the sheets. He got up with a heaving sigh and crawled onto the bed and plopped down next to me.

   “Will you hug me?” I asked.

   “ _What_?”

   “Hug!” I said loudly, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and snuggling down on top the sheets. Trying to ignore that my brain was clearly yelling at me that this should be a sort of turn-on, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to relax.

   I could smell him, that familiar scent of wood and unwashed clothes. It smelt like home. I shuddered, despite myself, and his grasp tightening as if taking it as a sign of coldness. I wasn’t cold, Niall. I wasn’t lonely either. When I was with him, I lost any sense of being alone, almost in a way that I didn’t half mind.

   I was empty.

   Somehow, I managed to drift off into some uneasy sleep, but when I roused into a half-alert state, I heard someone mumbling in my ear, and was aware of someone standing infront, or quite close to me. I peeled my eyes open carefully, squinting at the clock on the bedside table. 2:07. Well, that wasn’t great. A short glance over my shoulder, and I caught Niall dozing happily like a puppy, his face softened and expression clear.

   He was fast asleep, but his lips were moving slightly, and he was even making little noises as if though he was talking.

   “You’re _sleeping_?” I heard Louis say disbelievingly and I whipped around, staring at him.

   “Lou,” I called out quietly, not wanting to wake up Niall.

   “Hey Bec,” he said in a gentler than normal voice. Great. Now Liam thought that I have turned into some unstable mental case. “How you feeling?”

   “Great,” I slurred out drowsily, “Tired, but great.”

   “See you’re getting cosy there.” He plopped down into the chair next to the bed. “With Niall.” Too exhausted for this, I rolled my eyes and closed them again.

   “Go away, Lou. Not in the mood.”

   “Well, you guys keep cuddling up like that and you will be.” I opened my eyes only to scowl at his face. He leaned forward.

   “You’re still not going to talk…?” he began, but I cut across him swiftly.

   “No. You’re not going to convince me otherwise, just let me rest. I need…time to gather my thoughts.”

   “What did he say?”

   “He said a lot of things.”

   “Well, Liam said you were saying something about him not lying,” he said casually, “Did he cuss the crap out at you, Bec? He does that when he’s drunk.”

   “Don’t want to talk about it. Get out.”

   “B-”

   “Louis, what do you think you’re doing?” Liam said from the door, and I felt Niall stir slightly. He stopped mumbling and rolled over onto his back with a groan. I leant over him and poked him in the side.

   “Niall?” I said quietly, as I heard Liam whispering furiously to Louis as he dragged him from the room. “You up, babe?”

   “Am now,” he moaned, rubbing his eyes and sitting up wearily, “Whew. Good nap, that was.”

   “You weren’t napping,” I pointed out, “You were in deep sleep. Probably dreaming.”

   “Only about you!” he said with a laugh and I scoffed, stretching my arms and legs.

   “As if,” I muttered, “You were talking to yourself.”

   “Well if I did that when I was awake, I’d be called crazy, right?” he said, shooting me a look.

   “You’re still crazy, Nialler.”

   “You too, Bec.”

   I crawled off the bed, my head spinning and feeling slightly dizzy as he continued to laugh his head off. He got up and walked over to me as I crouched at the edge of Liam’s bed, feeling rather violated.

   Giving me a small, pitiful look, he leant down and scooped me up, which surprised me a little. His hands rested under my thighs, which was quite distracting, and he carried me off the bed towards the door, but I squirmed in his grip, slipped and fell onto the ground with a thump.

   “Jeez Bec, are-” He raised an eyebrow at me, but I shook my head.

   “I don’t want to go outside,” I explained meekly, looking down and avoiding his eye. He sighed, sitting down next to me. Quite a sacrifice, seeing that I was denying him his afternoon meal if he stayed. “You can go, you know.”

   “Nah,” he said, shaking his head, and propping himself against the foot of the bed. He patted the spot next to him. “I’d rather not. Keep you company for a while, eh?”

   I crawled over without hesitation and sat beside him, curling up and resting my legs over his. His arms looped around my waist and I instinctively rested my head on his shoulder. It felt right.

   “So,” he said thoughtfully, “You heard that stuff outside, right? Not a great vibe circulating at the moment.”

   “I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his warm clothes. “’s my fault. As usual.”

   “You ready to talk about it?”

   “Not really. Every time I think about it, I feel like throwing up,” I said flatly and he nodded, as if understanding when I thought it was pretty clear that he must think I was mad.

   “Would you talk to him?” I shook my head immediately.

   “No,” I refused blatantly, “I’m still trying to work it out myself. I don’t want him trying to talk to me and apologise and mess with my head right now…”

   “Apologise?” he repeated, looking confused. “So he did something to you last night?”

   “He didn’t do anything,” I said, bringing my knees up to my chest, “It…yeah, he said some stuff. But he wouldn’t have said them if he didn’t believe it.”

   “What did he say?” I shook my head, pointing to my throat. He nodded again. Poor, pitiful me with my easily triggered gag reflex. “Was it that bad, then? Cor, that’s Harry alright. He was drunk, babe, he wasn’t thinking straight.”

   “Well, he had a girl there,” I said expressionlessly. He regarded me.

   “Did that upset you?” I shook my head.

   “Not really.”

   “So it was the way he acted towards _you_?” he asked, rubbing my shoulder with his fuzzy woollen sleeve. It occurred vaguely to me that I was told him I _wasn’t_ going to talk about this. But what was I doing? Whipped again, Bec.

   “He said things,” I replied again, “But, it was my fault more than anything. I had it coming, after all.”

   “Nah, I doubt it,” he said after a pause, “You know what your problem is? You’re quick to blame, Bec. Anyone, but usually you pick on yourself.” There it was again. People analysing me, critiquing, judging.

   There was a wrenching twist in my gut again, as I felt the tears welling up. He glanced at me in alarm, sitting up as I sniffed, sliding down the wooden board and burying my face in my hands.

   “Hey, hey,” he said gently, slowly prising my hands away from my face. “Come on, babe. Are you OK? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

   “Oh don’t apologise!” I howled, throwing his hands off me and trying to crawl away, but his hand caught around my wrist.

   “Talk to me.”

   “I told you, I’m not ready to talk about it!” I moped, feeling rather despairing at this point. His mouth flattened into a straight line and he let go, sitting back down at the foot of the bed.

   “Just talk to me, then.” I blinked at him, caught off guard by his statement.

   “Sorry, what?” I croaked.

   “Anything,” he said lightly, folding his hands together, “Let’s talk, you and me. I need you- I mean, you need…we can talk about anything you want, I promise. But not that.”

   “Anything?” I repeated. He nodded, leaning back on one hand, the other latched around his necklace, fiddling with it. He looked far too attractive to argue with, to be honest. “Well…”

   “I’ll play you something?” Magic words. How could I refuse?

   I gave him a small smile, and he looked pleased with himself as I shuffled back over next to him with a quite sniffle. He reached over to the wall and plucked the guitar up that casually rested there. I knew Liam played, but not the same way that he did.

   “Play,” I said, prodding him in the shoulder.

   “Well, what would you like me to play then, miss?” he said with a mocking smile, “Any requests?”

   “Nope,” I said, folding my legs, “Anything that comes to mind, just play it.” He looked at me for a moment, as if to check if I was being serious, then shrugged and strummed a few chords, before throwing his hands up and dropping the guitar.

   “Ta-da!” he yelled, “Thank you, thank y- where are the claps, Lowthorne? They’re what I get by on.”

   “You’re funny,” I huffed, shoving him playfully, “Something else, now. Or sing to me.”

   “You’re in a demanding mood today,” he noted, drawing up his guitar again and plucking a few strings at random, before glancing at me thoughtfully. “You ran out of our recording at Andie’s the other day.”

   Remembering that day almost made me want to blanch.

   “Oh, yeah I did.”

   “You didn’t get to hang around see us do the final version,” he said, “It was fantastic.”

   “I believe you, Mr. Modest,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes, “So you gonna shoot a video for it?”

   “If the single does well, why not?”

   “When are you releasing?”

   “Eh,” he said, scratching his head, looking slightly absent minded, “Sometime next month, I think. Oh by the way, did the boys tell you? They’re in the works for a tour later this year too.”

   “What?” I said in reproach, “A tour? Like- how, how long for?”

   “A big one,” he said, looking painfully excited, “Summat like four, five months? It’ll be big, for sure.” I managed a small smile, but I felt like another bit of my insides had been suctioned out. They were going to go then, all of them, around the world and leaving London. Leaving me. “Oh, babe.” I glanced up at him.

   “What?” I said defensively. He leaned over and brushed my hair from my face again.

   “Nothing,” he mumbled with a grin, before sitting back and strumming a few more chords. “I’m writing a new song, you know.”

   “Play.”

   “I only have a melody, though,” he chuckled, “No words.” I nodded at his guitar persistently.

   “ _Play_ it, Horan,” I said pointedly and he rolled his eyes, adjusting his fingers before strumming out a single lined melody string by string. He hummed along to it, and I watched, fascinated by how totally enraptured he was when he started to play music. I jumped when he smiled at me knowingly, realising I had been staring at him for a while since he’d finished playing. “Wow. How can you even come up with stuff like this?”

   “I dunno,” he said with a shrug, “Sometimes it just comes to me. I find myself humming tunes I don’t even know.”

The hours I spent with him seemed to blur into long period of the two of us just being ourselves. I missed us just being us- not being awkward or out of place. He made me laugh, and every time he sung or talked, I couldn’t help the grin from spreading across my face. For those few short hours, I forget everything outside that room.

   I forgot the hurt of Harry Styles’ words. In fact, just thinking about Harry made everything complicated again.

   At one point, he looked up at the wall and jumped when he looked at the clock.

   “Holy shit, is that the time?” he said, gaping at it. He ran his hand through his hair nervously and messed it up.

   “It’s only 5:30,” I said. I hadn’t noticed the light fading into evening already.

   “No, I just have somewhere to be, that’s all.”

   “Oh,” I said shortly, “Alright then. Off you go.” He shot me a look, before a small smile crept onto his lips.

   “Do you want me to go?”

   “What?” I said sharply, unable to help the blush rising to my cheeks that always did when he looked at me like that. Piecing blue eyes, soft hair, and pale lips. His intoxicating scent.

   “Do you want me to go?” he repeated slowly, chuckling lowly as I opened my mouth, and shut it tightly. Was he…teasing me? I just let my first answer slip from me uncensored.

   “No.” He sat back and adjusted the guitar on his lap.

   “Better listen to the lady then,” he smirked and I nudged him with my elbow.

   “How can people stand you?” I demanded.

   “They’re all secretly jealous,” he said confidentially, “But they only put up with me so they can get in my bed.”

   ” _What_?” I laughed.

   “It’s true,” he said earnestly, but with a hint of mocking, “I only get by on hate. ‘s my fuel, babe.”

   “Well, that seems to be doing you well,” I said with a sigh, “Only if…I could say I was doing as well.” Confused and slightly angry with myself, I groaned and buried my head in his shoulder. “Stop me from talking. Please.”

   “I’ll try,” he laughed, shaking his head, before looking down at me resting on his shoulder. I caught myself licking my lips and I dropped my head down onto his lip with another tired groan.

   “Play something else.”

   “What about Lego House?”

   “Oh, Ed Sheeran’s always good,” I huffed, snuggling down to get more comfortable.

   “ _I’m gonna pick up the pieces and build a Lego House, if things go wrong we can knock it down. My three words have two meanings, there’s one thing on my mind. It’s all for you._ ”

   “Oh my god!” I cried, sitting up abruptly and nearly dislodging the guitar in his hands. I sat down slowly again as he stared at me in alarm.

   “Are you-are you OK, babe?” he said uncertainly, torn whether to be amused by my random outburst, or worried for my mental stability.

   “I’m great,” I mumbled, closing my eyes, “Keep going, Nialler.” I knew the next words. But those words I had first heard from his mouth on a cold, windy night in the rain a year ago, back in Sydney when an Irish exchange student had carried me home.

   _And it’s dark in a cold December, but I’ve got you to keep me warm. If you’re broken I will mend you, and keep you sheltered from the storm that’s raging on._

Hearing him sing made me want to curl up again, but I wanted to be back in Sydney with him. What would have happened if I had let him hold me that night, if my sister hadn’t been there? He’d be Niall, the exchange student. Not Niall, from One Direction. The Niall who had charmed food out of me, and a reluctant kiss too. The boy who made me laugh and kissed me in the rain like a fool.

   I opened my eyes to find him looking down on me, with what could only be described as a sad smile on his face.

   “’s beautiful,” I mumbled quietly, “Your voice. It’s still sounds as good as it did before…” I trailed off, and blinked confusedly. He swallowed, his eyes flickering from mine to my lips, as if they didn’t know where to look. The atmosphere in the room was changing abruptly; one moment we were laughing, the next he was singing and I was staring at him like there was nothing I’d rather do.

   I sat up gently, one hand resting on the floor next to his hip, the other clutching on to the wooden board at the foot of Liam’s bed.

   Our lips were inches apart, but we were both breathing shorter as if we had just been running a marathon. He was so close. There was no point denying the inevitable. I guess, the last person I kissed was Harry, and that was sharp and fast. But this time, I could tell it would be slower- gentler. That was how he kissed. But at the very last moment; just when I was sure I could taste him on my mouth already, he turned away, out of breath, and his lips grazed my cheek.

   I turned my head to look at him. His mouth was twitching again, the way it did when he was flustered. He took a deep breath in, swallowed, and turned to face me. I was hurting worse than before, if that was possible. Not feeling sick anymore, but desperate. I needed him. He managed a tight smile, his hand reaching up and gently brushing my hair behind my ear again.

   “Not today, babe,” he whispered, and instead, he kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and nodded. Even though I wanted more than anything to go against his words and break my will, I knew that I had done the same thing to him last Christmas.

   _And it’s dark in a cold December, but I’ve got you to keep me warm._

   “Niall?” We jumped apart quickly; only then did I realise what a close proximity we had been sitting, even though we hadn’t kissed. I hardly had time to smooth over my knit anxiously before the door opened and we were both blinded by the light from outside.

   “Oh shit, Liam, close the door,” Niall cursed, raising his hand to his eyes.

   “You’re late.”

   “I know,” he groaned, getting up and stretching lethargically. He looked down at me with a small smile. “So, I’ll see you soon, right Bec?”

   “Of course,” I said in a surprisingly casual voice. “Have fun, Nialler.” Nice one, I thought drily.

   “You gonna come out for dinner, Bec?” asked Liam, holding the door open, but I shook my head slowly.

   “Nah,” I said quietly, “I might just…stay in here for a bit longer.” He shrugged, and then shut the door. I sat on the floor, staring at the wall. Before soon, as the entire unlit room plunged into darkness, I realised that I couldn’t sit there forever. I needed to do something- something that would take my mind off everything that sought out to distract me.

   So I made a blanket fort.

   Pulling apart poor Liam’s bed sheets and draping them across the room, propping them up and wrapped them around handles and creating little tunnels. I was too busy to notice someone standing at the door.

   “Well this looks fun.” I looked up, and I immediately broke into a smile.

   “Zayn!” I cried, dropping the pile of books in my hands and running up to him. I hugged him tightly, knowing I could always find solace in him without him really judging me, only mostly because he hardly noticed things unless they were shoved right under his nose. I stepped back and let him survey the room.

   “Liam’s gonna be pleased,” he chortled, shaking his head. “May I enter?” I dropped down and crawled underneath the sheets. It was actually quite spacious. He crawled after me and we sat under the blanket fort, lying down and staring up where we would normally see the ceiling.

   “So, what you been up to today?”

   “Well,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly which immediately made me suspect something. “We managed to get Harry to confess to what he did to you last night.” I recoiled, shrinking back into my little shell. I remember my parents used to call my sister a social butterfly. Me? I was a social snail.

   I scrunched up my face slightly.

   “You’re still defending him?” he asked in surprise, looking slightly taken aback. “You’re still protecting him? Why, Bec?”

   “B-because,” I stammered uncertainly, “He…he told me I was a nobody. He said I was common. He said I was a _whore._ ”

   “That’s only because he’s a fucking douchebag.”

   “And now I’m making you guys fight!” I cried, feeling worse.

   “No,” he said firmly, grabbing my hands in his, “No. He had this coming, and it was only because of what _he_ did that we’re angry at him for.” I made a noise that sounded a bit like a dying whale.

   “It’s nothing be ashamed of,” he said softly, propping himself up on one elbow, while resting the other hand on my knee. “It’s him that should be sorry. We’re all furious at him, Bec. He had no right to say those things about you.”

   “But he said them, didn’t he?” I demanded defiantly, “And why would he say them if he didn’t believe them?”

   “Because he was drunk,” Zayn countered easily, before adding with a chuckle, “And to try get back at you, eh?”

   “What do you mean?” I asked confusedly.

   “You sort of…well, you insulted his manhood, Bec,” Zayn coughed, barely suppressing a grin, with a hint of a smirk. “And it’s Haz we’re talking about here. His manhood ain’t getting insulted much.” I could only assume he was talking about the original incident of his ultimate confession of undying love to me. Scoff. Well, that was reflected last night, wasn’t it?

   “Well, someone needed to,” I huffed, before sighing, “I know it was…wrong. I just didn’t know what else to say or do.”

   “Mm?” he prompted, staring down at his one hand trailing on my leg. I sighed, leaning my head closer against his chest.

   “Oh Z,” I mumbled, “Screw his manhood.” He chuckled lowly and I felt my cheeks go slightly red. Nice wording. “That’s not what-”

   “I know you meant sweety,” he smirked, dipping his head as his lips grazed my cheek. “Mm. Yeah, but it doesn’t mean that it’s not hot.”

   “Perv,” I muttered and he chuckled again, I could feel his hot breath on my skin. For some absurd reason, I felt drawn to him. It was wrong; it was all really, terribly-

   “Bec,” he whispered, “Can I ask you something?”

   “Mm?” I got out. His hand was still trailing on my leg, but it started shifting further up, past my knee, towards the hem of my night gown. Oh god, what the hell did he think he was doing?

   “I can…help,” he said, moving slightly so instead of lying next to me, he began to shift over me. “I can help you get over him, you know.”

   “Help?” I repeated weakly, trying to ignore his insanely soft touch on my inner thigh. “But I’m not trying…” He had lowered himself down, and laid a gentle kiss on my stomach. I could feel the tenderness of his lips through the thin fabric. A little involuntary moan slipped from my lips.

   “Is this alright?” he asked, doing it again, while his hand continued further up my dress. Part of me wanted to slap it away, because well, it was Zayn. But then, I was so immensely beyond the point of caring, that I didn’t bother. I was enjoying it too much. “Bec?”

   “Mm?”

   “I can- help you,” he repeated, laying his lips now on the bare skin of my leg. Good god. “Just to get through this. But only if you let me.” He looked up and our eyes locked for a second. I know Zayn had probably been the most physical of them all, but this? This was something entirely different.

   “Then help,” I mumbled, and he drew up, my hand fastening around the back of his neck and pulling him towards me. He leaned his head close to mine, our lips lingering. “Z-Zayn…”

   Things can happen within minutes, and the effects can last for years.


	23. Viva La Vida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guys i know i stuffed the chapters up n stuff sorry! x
> 
> if you can be bothered you can reread again, but i just messed around with the number of chapters by splitting a few of them up into shorter ones- in comparison to the old set out the latest chapter would be chapter 22 but its 26 now i think?
> 
> SORRY!   
> much love xx

_Present Day  
late March, 2013_

 

   I poked my head cautiously around the door, surveying the deadly quiet scene. The sun was streaming through the windows and lighting up the living room. Slowly as possible, I pushed the door open slightly more and squeezed around it. The apartment appeared completely empty, absolutely silent apart from the hum of the fridge.

   I made a wild dash towards the door when I realised it was far too good to be true.

   “Bec! Up,” said Liam and I halted abruptly at the sound of his voice. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly then turned slowly on my heels to face him. “…so early?”

   “Hey Liam,” I said with a quick smile, trying to edge towards the door, “It’s not that early, is it?”

   “Pretty early for a Saturday,” he said staring at me and stepping towards me at the same time. “So, what did you get up to last night?”

   “Hmm?” I said distractedly, running a hand through my hair, “Oh…I-nothing. Not much.” I could see the doubt in his eyes, the suspicion and confusion as they flickered to what I was wearing. Oh crap. Probably should have put some pants on.

   All I was wearing was my underwear and a shirt. Urgh-

   “Really?”

   “Mhm.”

   “Your hair’s a bit messy,” he said, the edge in his voice getting more noticeable, as he reached up and lifted a strand of the tangled mess. “Want to borrow my straightener?” I didn’t know whether to be more worried that he might find out, or amused that he was offering me his hair straightener.

   “That’s alright,” I said in an attempt at a light tone. “You know, I better get going, I’ve got somewhere to-”

   “Stop!” he said in such a commanding tone that I froze as I turned towards the door. He approached me and I turned to face him. He was looking down on me, mostly because he was so tall, so I immediately felt defensive. Oh and probably what I had done last night may have contributed to it. “You’re not going out in _that_ are you?”

   “N-no,” I mumbled, avoiding his eye, “I’ll go, and just grab my stuff…”

   “Bec,” he barked abruptly, looking taken aback as his hand latched onto the collar of the shirt. “Sh- you’re can’t be serious.”

   “What are you-?”

   “Bec, this is _Zayn’s_ shirt.” My mouth fell open. Nice response, dweeb.

   “I-” I began weakly, just as the door behind Liam swung open and Zayn strolled out, humming, shirtless and wearing low riding slacks. He glanced up and broke out into a grin as he saw me, before his gaze flickered to Liam and the smile dropped.

   “Liam,” he said blankly, just as Liam’s head went crazy, swishing between Zayn and I. I know it was stupid, but I felt strangely guilty. Zayn’s mouth hung open a little, as though he was hoping some words would fall out of it and lessen the shock on Liam’s face, as well as the general awkwardness of it all.

   “You,” Liam growled, as he strode over, grabbed me by my wrist and tugged me back into his bedroom. I stumbled helplessly after him, sending a pleading look at Zayn to get me out of the situation.

   “Come on, Li-” tried Zayn half-heartedly, but Liam shot him a furious look and held up his hand to silence him as he yanked me inside and slammed the door behind him. He let out a deep, heavy breath.

   At once, I launched into my pre-prepared excuses.

   “ _Please_ don’t overreact, Liam, we were just…”

   “Bec,” he moaned in a dragged out voice, slapping his hands over his eyes and rubbing them wearily. “Oh, _Bec_ …” He sat down on the edge of his bed, nearly tripping over the remains of my sad blanket fort. He was probably too distressed to care for the moment.

   He continued to rub them, muttering to himself.

   “ _Zayn…_ bloody _Zayn_ , and…”

   “What?” I said defiantly.

   “Don’t what me, you know exactly what!” he exclaimed abruptly, coming out of his trance, “I can tell that look on his face by now. Zayn spent the night here, he’s grinning like a fool and you’re strolling around half naked!”

   In my defense, I spluttered incomprehensively.

   “I thought you guys were friends!”

   “We _are_ friends!” I protested, but he rolled his eyes, looking anxious. “God Liam, it’s sort of funny how distressed you are about this.”

   “Funny?” he repeated incredulously, sounding even more distraught, “You think this is _funny_?” His eyes were wide, his hair out of place, wearing his pyjamas and looking totally confused. Of course it was funny.

   A snort escaped me.

   “You don’t understand it, Liam,” I smirked, grinning at him, “It was just a one off thing, he knows that.”

   “Don’t you remember what happened last time when you spent the night with one of us?” asked Liam, staring at me compellingly. “Yes, well didn’t that lead onto great things?”

   I blushed hot red, biting my lip.

   “I didn’t _sleep_ with Zayn!” I said loudly, just as the door swung open and Niall appeared at the door, a sandwich in one hand, looking confused and still weary from sleep.

   “Bec…?” he said, his blue eyes widening in alarm, as I buried my face in my hands with a groan. “What’s going on?”

   “Please,” I said, emerging and looking between Niall and Liam. I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make this a big deal, guys.”

   “How can I not?” said Liam patiently, before pointing at me accusingly and turning to Niall. “Look at whose shirt she’s wearing. Do I _have_ to elaborate?” Niall’s eyes got even wider, if possible, and he nearly dropped his sandwich.

   “No…” he said in a hushed voice. “But… _Zayn_?”

   “What on earth is wrong with him?”

   “He’s our friend!” Niall spluttered, looking completely wiped. “He’s _your_ friend too, Bec! He’s like your _brother_! No…I can’t see that…”

   “I know,” I said lightly, wondering why they couldn’t understand this simple concept. “We were looking for a good time…and that’s what we had.”

   “Too much information!” said Liam sharply; laying his hands over his ears as though I’d just given them herpes with my words. In fact, I was rather enjoying torturing him. Niall just looked confused.

   “Oh come on, guys. That’s why it was _nothing_. Everything we did just meant nothing and it was one off only…”

   “Does he know that?” interrupted Liam, “Because it’s always a one off thing with you, Bec. We all know where that leads.”

   Furious, I shoved him away, and hit him on the shoulder.

   “What are you saying?” I yelled abruptly, making him start, “You saying that I’m a _slut_?”

   “Bec, calm down,” said Niall calmly, stepping forward and placing his hand on my shoulder but I threw it off. “He’s not saying anything.” I ignored him, and continued with Liam.

   “You calling me a _whore_? Well, isn’t that original!” I shouted, throwing my hands in the air, “Because that’s _exactly_ what Harry called me!” A silence filled the room abruptly.

   “He called you a…what?” Niall finally spoke up, looking bemused.

   “Yeah, you all wanted to know what he said to me,” I said bitterly, “You know now, right? He told me I was the easiest girl he ever got into bed. Good for me then.”

   “That’s not true.”

   “Isn’t it?” I asked, running my hands through my air and plopping down at the end of the bed. “I’ve been _running_ through guys since I’ve gotten here. Goddamn, I’m nearly worse than him.” I took a deep shuddering breath, before letting it out.

   “You have to tell him, you know,” said Liam and I looked up at him distractedly.

   “Sorry?”

   “You have to tell Harry what you did,” he clarified, “With Zayn. He’ll go ballistic if you lie to him.” I scoffed disbelievingly.

   “He’ll go ballistic full stop,” I corrected, “How can I? He’ll realise that everything he said was true.”

   “So you’re going to lie to him?”

   “Niall,” I said pleadingly, looking at him desperately. How could he even bare to look at me? How was it possible that he hadn’t lost all respect for me already? “H-how can I…”

   “You told me,” he said with a shrug, not looking me in the eye. “You…could tell me. You should tell him.” I gaped at him, shocked that his face was completely bare of any emotions. He must be Superman. How could he say all those things without any connection whatsoever?

   “It’s different,” I concluded finally, shaking my head, “ _We_ were different Niall, and it was a completely different situation. Haz and I were nothing to begin with.”

   “What about us?” he asked, finally lowering his gaze to meet mine. Burning blue. “Were we much?” I swallowed.

   “I…at least it was something,” I responded feebly, but Liam shook his head, interrupting us.

   “You owe it to him.”

   “Of course I owe it to him,” I grumbled, tearing my eyes away from Niall, “I always owe something to Harry Styles, don’t I? I can’t do it.”

   “Bec, what’s all the shouting about?” asked Zayn, sticking his head through the door. The other two turned to stare at him for must have been the most uncomfortable amount of time. I cleared my throat, but they were still staring at him as if they didn’t know what to think anymore.

   “Liam! Niall!” I exclaimed and they jumped. I gestured towards the door. “Could you give us a minute?”

   The two looked at each other, before shuffling out the door, leaving Zayn and I alone. Liam shut the door behind him, not before shooting us a funny look.

   Zayn let out a heavy breath, giving me an uncertain smile. I returned it and patted the spot on the bed next to me. He sat down and I folded my legs over each other, not sure quite where to start.

   “So,” I breathed, playing with my hair with one hand, “Last night…”

   “Crazy, hmm?” he said with a small chuckle. I nodded, feeling uncomfortable.

   “I just want to make sure that we both understand where we stand now,” I said carefully, “You know it was just…a friends thing, right Z? It was nothing, right?” He blinked at me and broke out into a wide smile.

   “Of course,” he said, “What else would I want from you, Bec? You’ve been my friend forever.”

   “I know,” I sighed, “But, I think we were both just not thinking straight and I was…”

   “I was in a bit of a mood,” he admitted, before shaking his head, “Forget it.”

   “So we can just forget it ever happened?” I said hopefully, holding my arms out and offering a hug. “Friends forever?” He laughed and hugged me tightly.

   “Corny as fuck, but of course,” he chuckled, pulling away, “And I’ll be needing that shirt back, by the way.” I rolled my eyes.

   “Keep dreaming.” I got up, snatching my jeans off the floor and pulling them on.

   “What you doing now, then?” he asked, leaning back on his hands. I glanced at him momentarily. Huh. Well it was no wonder I was attracted to him. My friend forever still looked hella good shirtless.

   “I- have to go see Harry,” I blurted and his face blanked out.

   “W- Harry?” he repeated, “After your guys last episode, you’re going to see him?”

   “I have to,” I admitted, with a shrug, “But mostly because Liam bullied me into doing it.” Zayn chuckled and got up.

   “What did the others think?” he asked curiously.

   “About what?” I said distractedly, gathering the rest of my discarded clothes into a pile.

   “Oh you know,” he said casually, leaning across the doorway to stop me crossing. “Us.” I jerked back before laughing. I patted his cheek lightly.

   “Oh thank you Z,” I said, shaking my head with a smile and pushing past him. “I needed that.” Liam and Niall’s heads must have had whiplash from seeing us emerge from Liam’s bedroom.

   “Hello,” said Liam, attempting to appear casual, but he was aggressively peeling an apple. “How are you two?”

   “We’re fine,” I sighed, my mouth folding into a straight line. “So, I’ll see you guys soon, then?”

   “Oh soon,” chuckled Zayn, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up. I struggled helplessly as he put me down, before I turned around and smacked him in the shoulder.

   “Stop it!”

   “You like it, babe.”

   “Z…”

   “I’m off!” he cut across me, raising his arms in meek surrender, before strolling around the other side of the bench and doing the exact same thing to Liam, which was quite impressive seeing as Liam was taller than him, but still continued calmly peeling his apple which was now completely naked from any residue peel.

   Zayn set Liam down with an exhausted puff before laying a smooch on his cheek.

   “Too late there, Becstar,” he said with a wink, over Liam’s shoulder. “You’ve been usurped by Liam Payne. He’s a far superior lover.” I rolled my eyes and waved myself out the door.

   “Wait! Bec!” Niall jogged out after me, still clutching his sandwich. He looked a little unhinged by the news, but relatively calm. He walked me down the corridor, wearing his pyjamas and a hoodie.

   We stepped into the elevator, silent.

   “So,” he said, as I pressed level seven and he pressed level eight. “…Zayn.” I looked at him exasperatedly and he couldn’t suppress a grin. “No, I think it’s funny.” I nudged him lightly.

   “We’re _nothing_ ,” I assured, “Really. I think he was just saying some stuff to me…”

   “Oh Zayn knows all the right stuff to say,” chuckled Niall, as though he knew. The thought made me scoff. “So, when did it all go down?” I nearly choked, laughing.

   “Sorry?”

   “You know!” he laughed, nudging me back with his elbow, “When did you guys get down?”

   “I don’t- I don’t know,” I stammered, feeling put on the spot. “After you left, I guess. I wasn’t really looking at the time.”

   “Oh no,” he smirked, avoiding my eye, “Apparently, you were occupied looking at something else.”

   “ _Niall_!”

   The doors chimed for level seven and I stepped out the elevator laughing.

   “You’re not denying it, babe,” he pointed out, leaning against the back wall of the elevator.

   “No, I’m not,” I shot back, “And you’re still a cocky bastard.” He was still laughing as the doors grinded shut. Smiling to myself, I walked down the corridor, for a moment forgetting what I was doing here. As I pulled up outside their door, I remembered.

   _Knock knock_.

   Those sounds will spell your doom, surely, Bec. There was the sound of approaching feet before the door was opened a fraction and tired eyes squinted at me through the gap. And curls. Not to mention that old grey beanie.

   At once, the door was thrown open and he stood there looking tired as fuck but breathless.

   “Bec,” he breathed heavily, “Oh, you’re here-”

   “Haz, who is it?” I heard Louis from inside.

   “It’s Bec!” he called out over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off me as though if he did I might disappear. Like, poof. “You…I haven’t talked to you about that night.”

   “Yeah, forget that,” I began, but he shook his head firmly, signaling me in.

   “No,” he interrupted, “I can’t. All that stupid crap that was pouring out of my mouth, I just feel so bad, Bec. I- I couldn’t get my mind of it, it driving me mad. I’m sorry. I’m so, so…”

   “Haz, listen,” I cut across him, “I need to tell you something.”

   “It doesn’t matter,” he replied dismissively, “What matters is that you need to know why I said those things. I only said it because I knew what would hurt you. All I could think of was how I needed to hurt you because…”

   “Urgh, Harry,” said Louis, walking in wearing his flannel pants and a baseball shirt. “It’s too early for that sort of talk. Morning, Bec.” Harry shot a glance at Louis as he walked around the kitchen bench, opened the fridge and took out a milk carton.

   “I have to tell you something.”

   “No, no,” he said, holding his hand up to silence me. “I only said that stuff to hurt you because you’re _you_.” I raised my eyebrows slightly. “Oh come on, you have to know. How you make people feel, how you make _me_ feel.” I was trying hard not to make me eye twitch.

   “I’ve heard…”

   “Harry, you’re making her uncomfortable!” called Louis, guffawing over his cereal, with a mouthful of it. “You admitting your love for Bec, again, babe?” Oh if I was close enough right now, I would wring his neck.

   “I don’t mean that,” he said dismissively, “I mean that you just come off as…invulnerable. No chink in the armour.”

   “You’re not serious?” I said disbelievingly, pointing at myself, “ _This_? Oh Haz, you think that _this_ is invulnerable?”

   “That’s how you come off!” he replied defensively, “You’re so strong. Maybe I just wanted to see you lower than me for once. Yeah, I’m fucking selfish. But most people don’t get lower than me.”

   I blinked at him, out of breath from talking so much, and flawed as he was, but so whole and perfect. I breathed out heavily and dropped my gaze. How could I tell him those things? It would break him, and all these feelings of mellowness and calmness between us now would be shattered again.

   “…Bec?” he said carefully.

   “Give me her some breathing space, buddy!”

   “Shut up Louis!” we both snapped irritably, turning to glare at him. He merely guffawed at us as though we were a great source of entertainment and amusement to him. Harry turned back to me with a sigh.

   “So,” he said, “Do you…forgive me, then? For being a dick?”

   “Well, I’ve gotten pretty used to it by now,” I admitted and he let out a huff of relief.

   “A-and the girl who was here…”

   “You’ve lowered your standards dramatically,” I smirked, “It’s alright, Haz. I don’t mind. I understand, but I think it was also because of the stuff you said before. You know, after Holmes Chapel.” He blinked.

   “Holmes Chapel,” he breathed, “That was all…I know that Emma business wasn’t right. And you weren’t supposed to know about Ellis.” I couldn’t help but smirk.

   “Yeah, I figured,” I replied but I shrugged, “I’m over it. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done stuff I wouldn’t want you to know about.” Oh god. Zayn. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, but I snickered and shook my head. “Never mind.”

   “I’m interested now.”

   “Forget it, Haz,” I replied, waving my hand at him, and he rolled his eyes, before spreading his arms, offering me a hug. Just like I had to Zayn, as a gesture of friendship. How could I cut him off now? I stepped into them, finding the feeling of wholeness spreading through me that I had been deprived of for a while now.

   I wrapped my arms around his waist and clung to him for a while. He still ached like sleep, but he didn’t seem to notice that I was wearing Zayn’s shirt. I could hear Liam’s nagging voice already, but I couldn’t do it.

   Yank everything out from under him again.

   To be honest, I didn’t ever have to tell him. All it would do was cause problems anyway, and it was harmless fun, so why did he even have to know? I held on to him tighter, as though I knew this feeling of calm and peace between us could only last so long.

   Louis was making a crude gesture at me over Harry’s shoulder, and I replied with the finger.

 

***

 

   It almost felt like it had been in the old times. The six of us- just them and I, curled up on their couch at night, hanging out and watching boring free view television. Niall and Liam were sitting on the adjacent seats, our legs a tangled mess over each other. Zayn was squashed between us, Harry on my other side, and Louis on his far side.

   Our empty plates were piled on the coffee table, accompanied by our sock-covered feet.

   I forgot about everything- the drama, my life outside their apartments. Like the fact that I wasn’t staying for much longer. I was too lost in the boys, and how warm they made me feel. They were truly the only friends that I knew how to have, and I wasn’t going to let them go now.

   “GIRL YOU LOOK GOOD WON’T YOU BACK THAT ASS UP?” cried Zayn, jumping up and crumping vigorously on the spot. I laughed, clutching onto Niall’s thigh which was lying over mine as Haz leant across and buried his face in my stomach, barely able to stifle his laughter. “YOU FINE MOTHERFUCKER WON’T YOU-”

   “I volunteer!” shrieked Louis, scrambling to his feet unbalanced for a moment, before lunging at Zayn and tackling him to the ground with a giant crash.

   “Hands off, Malik!” said Haz, sitting up and my hand slipped from his curls. “You better watch yourself around my boyfriend.”

   “And you wonder why everyone reckons you two are gay?” I demanded, raising an eyebrow at him. He stared at me for a second to a point where I wondered if he was going to collapse on me, but then exploded into a flurry of motion, scuffing up my hair viciously and pulling me towards him, kissing my head.

   I choked with laughter, shoving him off me.

   “You _prick_!”

   “What’s coming up next?” asked Niall as Liam picked up the remote under a pile of questionable fabric.

   “Uh…The Only Way is Essex.” Niall retched, grabbed the remote and hit the channel button.

   “More like the only way is butt sex.”

   “Like with Louis and Harry!” I laughed, as Haz continued his assault on me, hands all over everywhere as I attempted to fend him off. “Alright…alright, I’m _sorry_! Get off…”

   “I miss this,” huffed Zayn, coming over and plopping back down in his squashy spot between Niall and I on the crack. “You haven’t hung out with us for ages.”

   “Too busy with her engaging social life back at her university,” sniggered Louis, walking over and shoving Haz off the couch. He snuggled up to me and buried his face in my neck. His hair smelt like flavoured shampoo- I think it was coconut.

   “Stop making out with Bec’s neck, Lou,” told off Liam, taking the controller back off Niall carefully, as it flicked to an adult only channel. “We’re not watching this, buddy.”

   “I know!” he exclaimed, colour rising to his cheeks. I grinned at him, finding it cute, even though it was merely at his embarrassment. His blue eyes hadn’t ever faded, not since the day I ever first met him. Maybe they were brighter in the haze of autumn rain. I was distracted as Harry pounced back up and launched himself across our laps, sprawling out and nearly elbowing Zayn in the face.

   “Ow- you…”

   He rolled over onto his back, staring up at us with those stupid brilliant green eyes.

   “Hi.” One dumb word can spill from his mouth, and suddenly nothing mattered anymore.

   “Y-you’re squashing me!” protested Louis, trying to wriggle around but his legs were pinned under Harry’s weight. “ _Harry_!” I rested one of my hands on Haz’s upper stomach and one of his hands instantly moved and held it against him. He was warm, at least.

   “I’m losing feeling in my legs!” whined Louis. His hands fastened around Harry’s legs and started tugging at his jeans.

   “L-Lou, what you doing?” Haz chortled, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Louis had that determined expression on his face when he was concentrating really hard on one thing.

   “Stop stripping him,” Liam sighed and I reached across Harry lying in my lap and grabbed my half-drunk coke on the table. I leant back, finishing the final sips of it when a pair of hands fastened unexpectedly on mine. My eyes widened and I nearly tipped the can over.

   “What you doing?” I gasped, wiping my mouth and staring at Niall who was trying impatiently to tug the can from me.

   “I need a drink!” he said blankly, sounding like a kid from those pale lips. He dropped one hand to ruffle up his soft feathery blonde hair, and I was a goner. He was starting to get regrowth, but it looked good on him. And he was still working out, those arms were firmer now. He needed to stop.

   “You need to stop.” Urgh, did I really say that out loud?

   “What?” he said, pouncing on the opportunity when I was off guard and yanking the drink from me, slurping the rest of it down greedily. “What you on about, Bec?” I blinked.

   Well to be honest, he needed to stop looking so good. It was almost painful, in fact. Not that I was going to say that to his face. I grinned and shook my head.

   “Nothing.”

   He raised an eyebrow at me before looking down. I followed his gaze, almost pulling away when I realised that my hand was still resting on his upper thigh. Well, apparently the entire time I had been taking out my emotions by trying to get the blood circulation flowing in his leg.

   “Bec?” I looked down at Harry, whose arms were resting across his chest as he gazed up at me. One strand of curly hair fell across his eyes and he blew it away from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were still locked on my face, and the edge of his mouth curled upwards slightly. “You’re beautiful.”

   Way to put me on the spot.

   “Aww thanks,” I cooed, as Louis choked on his drink and Liam glanced over distractedly. A brief pause. “You’re a charmer, Stylie, I’ll give you that. How many girls melt with that line?” He stared at me for a second, before his face split into a wide smile, and he laughed.

   “Most.” I moved my other hand from Haz’s chest to bump my fist against his jaw. “I’m real good.”

   “Oh, I know you’re good,” I smirked, rolling my eyes.

   “Bec?” said Liam, grabbing half the plates and getting up, “Can you help me load a few of the dishes?”

   “Aw Liam,” said Harry, craning his neck up and looking up at Liam upside down. “You downing my game?” Liam rolled his eyes and headed off, shooting me a persistent look over his shoulder. Sighing, I got up resignedly, scooped the rest of the plates and followed him.

   When I got to the kitchen, Liam was standing at the sink, rinsing the plates dutifully. With a quite mumble, I walked over and stood next to him, emptying the scraps of food on the plates into the bin and handing them to him. He took them from me and I glanced at his face, his mouth set in that disapproving fatherly line.

   “Liam…”

   “I can’t believe you didn’t tell him, Bec,” he sighed, shaking his head and looking at me. He scrubbed a plate, before leaning down and dropping it into the dishwasher. Lost for words, I handed him the next plate.

   “How could you tell?”

   “Really?” he demanded impatiently, turning to me, “Come on, if you had told him he wouldn’t be acting like that around you.”

   “It shouldn’t matter,” I said through gritted teeth, shoving him the next plate. “I couldn’t do it, Li. You should have seen him, groveling on the floor, and after that it all felt like it was falling back in place. God, do you know how much I _miss_ that?”

   “I can imagine,” he said, “But are you gonna _lie_ to him just to save that?”

   “Yes,” I replied stubbornly, glaring at him as if willing him to challenge me. He merely shook his head, placing another plate carefully on the dishwashing rack. “And you’re judging me for it.”

   “I’m not!” he insisted, “None of us have ever judged you, it’s not like we could talk much in the first place.” I snorted and shook my head, offloading the final plate to him.

   “Don’t make me. Please, it’s just gonna cause more trouble.”

   “What is?” asked Harry, making me start abruptly. He stood there, holding my empty coke can he had probably grabbed off Niall, the edge of his mouth curling up slightly, pre-grin.

   “Nothing,” I said sweetly, ignoring Liam and nudging him out of the way towards the door to the living room. Appearing slightly livid, he shuffled out mumbling as Harry brushed past him, dropping the can into the rubbish bin and wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

   That familiar feeling was rushing through me, that satisfaction when I was with him. My stomach bumped lightly against the kitchen bench.

   “Hey?” he said quietly into my hair in a muffle tone, “You know what all of this has made me realise?” I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but I listened regardless. “I really hate fighting with you.”

   “Me too,” I sighed, as we rocked gently side to side. “I need to…tell you-”

   “Mm?” he prompted, but I just couldn’t find the right words for it. I was left gaping a little.

   “N-never mind, Haz,” I blurted eventually with a shrug, “You gonna get some food, or do you want to go back outside?” He blinked at me and I looked at him over my shoulder, and shook his head.

   “Nah, I don’t want any food,” he mumbled, before reaching down and pressing his lips to mine. It was so gentle and gradual, and unlike him that I almost thought it was someone like Niall kissing me- which was the stupidest thing that could possibly cross my mind. His hand was resting chastely on my cheek, holding me into him.

   I was pulled abruptly from the situation as I heard a clatter of cutlery and a shocked gasp. I quickly pulled away and tried to separate myself from him, but he was pressing me against the kitchen bench. I shoved him off me quickly and stood there, as though hoping they hadn’t seen.

   “B-” Niall’s mouth was hanging open. Ironic to think that less than a few seconds ago, I had imagined it was him kissing me. For some reason, he looked cut by it.

   “Holy shit!” cussed Zayn, standing next to him, holding weakly onto his own plate from which the cutlery had already fallen from onto the ground. I could see his composure breaking. “I thought…” I stared at him and shook my head firmly. He looked a little nauseous, forcing his plate into Niall’s hand and hurrying out of the room.

   “What was that about?” demanded Harry, looking confused, and following him, “Zayn, grow up! You’ve seen Bec and I go at…”

   “It’s not that,” I said quietly as Niall’s blue eyes widened. At that exact moment, I could really do with a massive hug from him. I tried to call Haz’s name after him, but before it could fall from my lips, he had already disappeared into the next room to look for Zayn.

   Immediately I knew this wasn’t going to go well.

   Just as I tried to go and chase after the two of them, Niall grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

   “Wh-?”

   “You don’t want to be there when those two are gonna get angry at each other,” he warned, but I pulled my sleeve from his grasp. His eyes stared into mine compellingly. “Unless you do, apparently.”

   “You know how Haz is,” I said warily, “He goes a little…he can’t know, Zayn’s gonna open his mouth a just-” I hesitated, irked by the complication of my own thoughts, but took his brief moment of hesitation to dash through the door after them.

   “She didn’t tell you?” Zayn said just as I pulled up short behind Harry. I made a slicing gesture across my neck, mouthing words viciously, but to no avail. Haz turned around to face me, looking torn.

   “No. No she didn’t.”

   “Zayn,” I said, “It’s nothing. Just…”

   “What’s nothing?” Harry interrupted me sharply, dropping his head to let his curls for over his face before flicking them up and using one hand to hold it out of his eyes. He looked around at everyone, standing at different places around the room; Louis kneeling on the couch, Liam next to Zayn who was standing across of Harry, Niall hovering at the door behind me.

   “Am I missing something here?”

   It was plainly cruel, the rest of us knowing and not saying a word.

   “AM I MISSING SOMETHING HERE?” he repeated angrily.

   “I have something to tell you,” I breathed, not knowing what to expect. Screw you Liam. I wasn’t going to dodge around it; I was just going to dive straight in. Head first. “I…spent the night with Zayn.”

   The apartment when so quiet, I wondered if the five of them were still breathing.

   “What?” Harry said; his face not moving at all, which was quite alarming. “You did what?”

   “I spent the night with Zayn,” I repeated, hating the way it rolled off with my tongue. I avoided Zayn’s eye over Harry’s shoulder. “It was nothing, but…”

   “What do you mean it was nothing?” he demanded, looking surprisingly expressionless. I was still waiting for the explosion.

   “The two of us know it was just a thing between friends, that’s what I mean. Right, Zayn?”

   “Yeah.” Harry ignored him.

   “That’s how we started,” he interrupted, “Just a thing between friends, the first time we slept together.”

   “I didn’t sleep with-”

   “We’ll just go,” I heard Louis mutter, getting up and shuffling off to his room. He grabbed Liam by his arm and yanking him along unwillingly, and Niall brushed past me, patting my shoulder rather pitifully.

   Neither of us paid attention to them.

   “I didn’t sleep with Zayn, he can vouch for that. And we were different.”

   “How were we different?” Harry demanded, crossing his arms across his chest.

   “Because…I was with Niall at the time,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “And Zayn genuinely means it, don’t you? We are friends, while back then; _we_ avoided talking completely and were angry at each other.”

   “Listen to her Haz,” said Zayn, “It’s not a big deal, we both know it was just a mistake.”

   “If you didn’t sleep with him, then what do you mean ‘spent the night’?” Haz asked, still ignoring his friend. I felt my cheeks go red, and my gaze dropped abruptly to floor, hoping Zayn would answer it instead. I couldn’t _say_ it. “Bec?”

   “We probably would have…you know, gone all the way if I hadn’t stopped him,” I admitted, unable to stop the blush in my cheeks.

   “But I did touch her. And she…touched me too.” There. Zayn had said it. Possibly, it made Harry angrier.

   To be honest, saying it out loud, not just having sex with him made me sound even sluttier. Harry shut his eyes tightly and took in a deep shuddering breath.

   “You _touched_ him.”

   “Haz, don’t bloody repeat it.”

   “This is Zayn!” he burst out, pointing behind him in Zayn’s general direction. “Zayn! Bloody Malik!”

    “Yes!” I replied staunchly, “Zayn bloody Malik!” I heard Zayn make an offended noise.

   “I’m right here?”

   “B-b _why_?” continued Haz, ignoring him, sounding incredulous, looking shattered and confused, as if he wasn’t sure what to think. “You two weren’t- aren’t…”

   “We aren’t anything,” I replied firmly. “It was just a mistake, Harry.” He seemed to be irked by my use of his name.

   “You spent the night with him,” he repeated, backing away, “You and him.”

   “Don’t go all Liam on me,” I started but his eyes were turning cold. “Come on Haz, you have to understand this?”

   “How can you expect me to understand you sleeping with my friend?” he asked quietly, before raising his voice slightly, “How is that something I’m supposed to understand?”

   “For the last time, I didn’t sleep with him!”

   “No,” he said bitterly, “What does it matter? You still…did all that.” He fell quiet, before looking up at me. “Who else knows?”

   “About the Zayn thing?” His eyes flashed. “Just you five.”

   “How long did the others know about it?” he demanded. “They obviously knew.”

   “J-just this morning. Well, Louis didn’t know either until- well, Louis doesn’t know,” I finished lamely, “It only happened last night.”

   I could see him struggling to put it all together. I wanted to hold on to someone for support. Zayn?

   “So…did you guys talk?” he asked hesitantly, even though Zayn was still standing with us. He seemed to refuse to acknowledge his presence. “Does he _know_ it’s just a mistake?”

   “Yeah,” I replied briskly, “He does.” Why did everyone assume that sex with me was just always something more?

   “How did he even _talk_ you into doing that, Bec?” Harry asked, looking disgusted at me. I felt defensive instantly.

   “I can do whatever I want, Styles!” I snapped, folding my arms over my chest, “Zayn?”

   “It was my fault,” said Zayn, stepping forward, but I saw something brutal flash in Harry’s eyes. I barely had time to register it before he spun around and punched Zayn in the face. I let out a scream of surprise.

   “Shit!”

   “Damn _right_ it was your fault!” yelled Harry as Zayn stumbled back. I clung onto Haz’s arm, ready to hold him back, but he wasn’t going in for more. “You were taking advantage of her, Zayn, you fucking prick! She’s our _friend_!”

   “I wasn’t…” trailed off Zayn, looking wounded as the others forced themselves to emerge from Louis’ room, probably roused by my scream. There was a brief realisation in Zayn’s eyes that what Harry had said was the truth. I could still hear him in my ear.

   _I can help you get over him_.

   I bit my lip, glancing distractedly between them, but Harry refused to meet my eye.

   “You’re one to fucking talk, Styles!” spat back Zayn, regaining his fire and his wounded pride. “I’m bloody sorry Niall, but you had her first before this one here came in and swooped in for her, didn’t you?”

   Niall looked uncomfortable, as though he really didn’t want to be part of the conversation.

   “Seriously Zayn, don’t bring me into this,” he mumbled, but Zayn waved him off.

   “Exactly!” he snapped to Harry, “So don’t you lecture me about being her better _friend_.”

   Harry looked for a moment like he was about to snap again, instead he wrenched himself from my grip and stormed out of the apartment, forgetting he lived there.


	24. Kids in America

_Present Day  
late March, 2013_

 

 

               louisthebest says: harry come home :(

               louisthebest says: harry come home :(

 

   zaynbfordboi says: we’re worried. and bec’s waiting for you to get

                                    back n you have to ice up my face styles.

 

               niallispimping says: mate get back paul’s pissed shit

 

               liam.p says: do you undersand how irrsponsible this is paul’s here and

                                       he’st trying to talk about tour but you’re not here. no one

                                       wants to tell him.

 

               niallispimping says: liam just told paul what happened.

 

becloveslouissomuch says: im sorry just go home the boys care

  1. becloveslouissomuch says: harry. i don’t know if you want me to be   



       sorry or something, n i know i should have

       told you in the first place. but do i need to

       be sorry?

            hazinyourpants says: you don’t.

 

***

 

   The biro pen was hovering in my hand as I tried to find the right words for it. I dotted the paper a few times, frustrated, but nothing was coming to me. I spun around as Niall marched through the door, before throwing himself onto my bed face first.

   “Well, hi to you too.”

   He grunted and I got up, leaving the blank piece of paper on my table and shuffling over in my fluffy slippers towards my bed. I jumped on top of him, making him complain noisily as I drew my blanket up to his shoulders. I blew on his neck lightly and he jumped up, looking groggy. There were heavy bags under his eyes, like he’d been severely over worked.

   I laughed lightly and rolled off onto the space beside him on my bed, as he rubbed his eyes and squinted at me, waiting for his vision to come into focus.

   “Hey Bec,” he said slowly, wedging one hand between his soft blond hair and my pillow. “How’s your morning been?”

   “A whole load better since you got in my bed,” I replied and he laughed shortly- that brief noise that could made me smile any day without fault, his face in a tired grin. “And you?”

   “Paul got pissed at Harry when he got home at about two in the morning,” he said with a shrug, “All day yesterday he spent dragging us to Syco talking about the tour.”

   “So it’s definitely on?” I asked, choosing to ignore the first part of his reply. “You’re definitely going?”

   “Yeah,” he sighed, reaching out and scuffing my hair up with his hand. “We are. Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me, babe.” I frowned at him before turning my head and muffling my voice into my pillow.

   “He’s real good at storming out, isn’t he?” I asked eventually, propping my head up on my hands.

   “To be fair, you both are,” he pointed out, “I mean, just time after time, you guys aren’t really great at talking you sort walk away and hope it all…”

   “Goes away as well?” I finished, turning to him. He looked into my eyes and shrugged. “Never mind. I’ll see him tonight either way, the premiere for that campfire song right?”

   “It’s got a name now,” he reminded me, yawning as he sat up and stretched his arms. He poked me on the nose, knowing well that I scrunched it up when he did. “I-”

   “Beeeeeeeec!” I heard Tian yell and I sat up abruptly just as she barged through the door. “I- oh, hi. That’s where you went. I let you in, then went to get something, and I came back out but you were gone!”

   “Sorry,” said Niall apologetically with a small smile, patting the bed, “It was calling for me.” I rolled my eyes.

   “What’s up Ti?”

   “No, I was just wondering if Ireland had disappeared off the map.”

   “Get out!” I cried, pointing at the door but Niall was laughing. He slumped back down on to the bed, drew up the blankets around him and for a moment, I believed he actually went to sleep.

   “Can I stay here forever?”

   “Nope, you’ve got a single to release,” I said nudging him but he merely pulled the blanket tighter around him and let out a little moan. “You want to be a big star, sell out arenas and work with the big names, then shoo!”

   “Are you _quoting_ me?”

   “Nialler,” I groaned, continuously bumping his back with my knee, “ _I_ want to sleep too.”

   “Here,” he said, lifting the edge of the blanket and shuffling over. “Sleep with me?”

   “Oh, you did not just…”

   “I’m not taking advantage of you,” he scoffed as I laid down beside him and drew the blanket up around my chin. It was painfully warm, cosy. “I mean, I’m not _Zayn Malik_.”

   “NIALL! GET OUT OF MY BED!”

   “I’m joking!” he cried, hugging me through the sheets, “Please don’t kick me out. None of the guys know that I pay you visits, so the longer I stay, the longer I get out of doing work.”

   “Oh I see how it is,” I huffed, and he shot me a hopeful, “That’s what I am, an excuse to get out of work? Well maybe I’ll just call up Paul or Simon and see what they have to say.”

   “No,” he dragged out, smacking his face excessively violently in my pillow, “No, I promise I won’t make fun of you and your scandalous, promiscuous sexual activities again.”

   “That’s it!” I yelped, trying to get up, but one of his arms was slung across my chest, pinning me down. It was all familiar, the way we automatically lay with each other. I remembered when. Sydney, the morning after the incident. He was laying chest down, one arm thrown across me, mouth hanging open happily oblivious. Pop that bubble, Bec. “I’m kicking you out.”

   “You can’t,” he breathed, as I managed to get his arm momentarily off me and slide out from under him. He had a dozy grin on his face, his blue eyes sleepy as they smiled up at me. “You can’t kick very well.”

   “Funny,” I replied, trying to shove him off, “Doesn’t your country have a war to go fight?”

   “Racist cow!” he howled and I jumped at the chance, digging my elbow into his side but it slipped and I ended up landing on top of him. For a split second, our eyes locked, his gaze dropped to my lips distractedly again and he grinned, before I mumbled, ‘leprechaun’ and shoved him off.

   “Fine,” I muttered, getting off my bed, “I’m going out anyway, to get my breakfast and buy a crowbar.” He laughed into my pillow, his back shuddering. He turned and looked at me.

   “Can I come?”

   “Please do,” I replied, “If it means my bed is rid of you.”

   “Excellent,” he said, rolling off my bed and falling to the ground with large thump. He popped up and added, “Where to for breakfast?”

   “Out,” I said, “Not in campus.”

   “Why not?”

   “Because it’s crappy and small and the food tastes like it was made last century,” I shot back, grabbing my hoodie and beanie. I pulled them on over my pyjamas as he stood up, rolling the sleeves of his woolen pullover. God, he looked good.

   “I’ll take your word for it, babe,” he chuckled strolling over and pecking my cheek before disappearing through the door. With a small smile, I grabbed my phone, tucked it into my pocket and followed him.

   “I’d rather Maccas,” I commented as he slipped on his red Supra’s over his socks. “Hey, I didn’t know you still wore those.”

   “These?” he said, tapping the side of his shoes, “Of course I do. They’re my babies.”

   “It’s been a while I guess,” I replied with a shrug, grabbing my ugg boots and pulling the on. “Last time I remember them was when you used to wear them in Sydney.” Yes I admit it, part of me was curious to see what would happen if I mentioned that.

   “Oh yeah,” he said thoughtfully, “They were practically attached to my feet back then.”

   “So am I shouting you breakfast?” I asked as he opened the door and let me step through first. The cold hit me, but I was wearing about four layers, so it wasn’t that bad.

   “I don’t have my wallet on me,” he said dubiously, “And you owe several meals anyway.”

   “What?” I laughed as he closed the door and we walked down the ugly concrete stairs. It was a miracle he could even navigate his way throughout campus, it all looked the same to me. “Since when, exactly?”

   “As I remember,” he recalled with a teasing bite in his voice, “I took you out on very expensive dinners, and lunches. Not to mention all those colas I shouted you at those clubs.”

   “Yeah,” I replied, with a sigh, rolling my eyes. “Because we were dating?”

   “Excuses,” he tutted, shaking his head just as we turned on the next flight and he collided into a lyrca monster. “Shit!”

   “Roofie!” I exclaimed, quickly pulling Niall away from him. He staggered back, looking traumatised. “Hi, sorry.”

   “I- sorry,” puffed Roofie, leaning over on his knees and panting heavily. He leant back and squinted at Niall. “Sorry, are you new?” I suppressed a smile; he was worse than me.

   “Roofie this is Niall,” I said as Niall limply accepted his sweaty hand and shook it wearily. “Niall, this is my friend, Roofie.”

   “Roofie?” he repeated, sounding faint.

   “My name’s really Rufus,” he corrected, pressing a button on his iPod. “Bec just finds it funny to call me names. Anyway, nice meeting you, Niall.”

   “You too,” he replied and Roofie waved before jogging off. “Roofie? Really, was that the best you could come up with?”

   “It suits him,” I shot back, tugging him along gently because he had become rooted to the spot. “And you look like you’ve been scarred.”

   “Have I not been?” he asked sarcastically as we finally reached the bottom. “I wonder what it would’ve been like if I hadn’t auditioned, you know? I’d probably be in community college.”

   “What would you have studied?”

   “Something useless,” he scoffed, as we walked towards the campus exit, the sun starting to shine down. “It’s a nice day today, innit?”

   “Mm,” I agreed absent-mindedly, “I feel…”

   “Feel..?” he prompted slowly, glancing at me. I swallowed- dare I say it?

   “Tired,” I sighed, closing my eyes, “Just really…tired.” Mostly because of the massive burden I was carrying that had _nothing_ to do with them. Like the fact that my term at London University would be ending in less than two months’ time.

   “Yeah,” he said, looking at me with a faint trace of concern, “Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” I shook my head persistently.

   “Nope,” I passed it off, before patting his shoulder, “But next time we go out, you can buy my drinks to make up for this.”

   “Your drinks?”

   “Well, you used to refuse to let me drink at all,” I reminded him and he made a disbelieving noise.

   “You were sixteen, Bec!” he cried, throwing his hands up but with a hint of a smile playing on his pale lips. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have the faintest idea what to do with you if you were drunk back then.”

   “Really? Maybe if you gave it a little time, you could come up with something,” I teased, biting on my lip.

   “Oh you,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to the ground as we continued to waltz our way through campus, and the exit finally looming at us. “Contrary to what you think, I wasn’t a dirty pervert.”

   “You _weren’t_ ,” I corrected, “But you are now.”

   “Hey, I beg to differ!” he huffed, pretending to sound hurt.

   “I’ll reconsider if you do it on your knees,” I shot back.

   “Feisty!” he laughed widely, stopping and wrapping his arms around my neck, squeezing me against him tightly. I tried to ignore how comfortable it felt and smiled into his chest. “Now, stop arguing with me and let’s go eat.”

   “Sounds good to me,” I breathed, untangling myself from him. I stood there for a moment in his arms, and he smiled down at me, before distractedly adjusting my beanie over my ears again.

   He offered me his hand, his gorgeous smile and those imploring eyes, so of course I took them all. I grasped his hand, enjoying the warmth I felt when I did. Like I was complete.

 

***

 

   “You’ve got to save us all,” came Zayn’s breathy voice through my phone, “Haz is shooting me death glares, but he keeps saying bitter stuff. I don’t know whether he’s going to hit someone else or himself first.”

   “Has he been like that the last few days?” I asked, hugging my denim jacket tighter around me. I regretted only wearing a singlet under a shirt, with black full length leggings and my beanie again. Even London spring nights were biting and chilly. Shuddering, I clutched my phone tighter.

   “Not much, he’s been bearable.”

   “But now?”

   “Well, in his credit, Louis’ doing his best to bring you into every conversation in the room.”

   “I’m going to _skin_ him!” I hissed, turning around on the spot and craning my neck up at the building. “Which building is it again?”

   “32,” he replied, and I think I could hear Louis’ chirpy voice in the background. Well, it wouldn’t be chirpy for long. “Do you want to come down and- oh no, Liam’s gone down already, apparently.”

   “What?” I said, freezing, “Liam? No, Zayn I’d rather talk to you, please st-”

   “He’s gone,” Zayn interrupted me. “Come on Bec, he’s not that bad.”

   “No, he’s not,” I said bitterly, turning around and seeing Liam emerge surprisingly fast from a building ahead. “I see him.”

   “Well are you going to leave him hanging out there in the cold all night?” demanded Zayn, “Better hurry…there’s a tasting platter and Haz looks like he might try to slash his wrists with cheese knife.” With a groan, I hung up and jogged up to Liam who greeted me with a tight smile.

   “Hey, Bec.”

   “Hello Liam,” I said formally and he nodded in assent. “Cold night out, isn’t it?”

   “A little chilly,” he answered with a shrug. Apparently, every Brit had an insulated layer skin. “Should warm up soon, with summer coming up.” From what I could guess, the Australian and English versions of summer would be very different. I wasn’t looking forward to it.

   “You guys excited for the premiere?”

   “Course,” he replied as we hurried into the lobby of the building which was much warmer. I let out a sigh of relief as I followed him towards the elevators. “Especially Niall and Harry, they worked really hard on this one.”

   “Didn’t they write it together?”

   “Yeah, a while ago,” Liam said, as we stepped into the elevator. He pressed the number 9 with his index finger and the square around it glowed orange as the doors grinded shut. “About a year ago, actually. Right after the Up All Night tour.”

   To be honest, I was surprised he had managed to go this long without mentioning a tedious speech about all matters to do with Harry. I appreciated it, because right now, it was my responsibility to deal with all that stuff. And in all truth, I had no idea how to approach the situation.

   The doors slid open and Zayn was standing there, barely leaving me time to register his presence before he launched himself on top of me, hugging me and breathing heavily in my ear. Apart from his feverously whispering of ‘S.O.S’, I could hear the buzz of the room behind him. Slowly, he pulled away and looked at me with those pleading honey eyes.

   “What?” I said, blinking distractedly. I had not successfully registered a single word he had said. I was busy, peeking past his shoulder at the room, which turned out to be quite a party.

   It was a large room with tables with food, a massive flat screen hanging on the wall opposite a couch set. It was all very modern, even with floor to ceiling glass panels leading to what must have been the balcony. There were about twenty people there. The heating was cranked up, so for that I was thankful.

   “Are you listening to me?” demanded Zayn, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the elevator, while Liam shot a dubious look. As Zayn tugged me across to the other side of the room, I could feel eyes start to be drawn to me. I wondered how many people here knew who I was. As we reached a corner next to the drinks table and near the curtains, he stopped and turned to me.

   “You’ve got to talk to him. We’re all going crazy.” I raised an eyebrow.

   “Z, don’t tell me what to do, just let me handle it myself, OK?” I sighed, folding my arms over my chest, but he squinted at me, and shook his head violently.

   “That’s your attitude every single time, isn’t it?” he asked, and giving up, I stalked away, but not before grabbing a canapé from a nearby plate. I shoved it into my mouth, dusting my hands off as someone announced,

   “Five minutes!” Buzz circulated the room furiously again.

   Damn that canapé was good. I looked around, recognising a few people. Their live band, Paul their manager, their make-up and hair artists, plus a few scary looking guys who I could only expect were their security. I settled myself on the couch in front of the flat screen, which was surprisingly empty, and I heard a short intake of breath. I craned my neck around to see Paul standing there, holding the plate of canapé; his mouth crinkled into a straight line and looking disapproving.

   “Oh thanks,” I said lightly, reaching over and cramming another one unceremoniously into my mouth. I really couldn’t care less of what everyone in this room thought of me. To them, I was probably just passing phase in the boys’ life, the privileged one who didn’t have to do shit, but just stood there looking pretty.

   “Rebecca, isn’t it?” asked Paul, setting the plate down gingerly. Yeah, so maybe it wasn’t for me. “Sorry they didn’t tell you, but this is the couch for the boys.” Well I wasn’t going to move.

   “Oh Paul!” cried Louis, showing up and sliding onto the couch next to me. “Don’t be such a party pooper, Bec can sit on our couch any day she likes.” I grinned up at Paul who sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily.

   “OK, alright,” he muttered, giving in, “She’s your responsibility then, right Louis? Don’t let it get out of hand.”

   “So _he_ knows too?” I demanded as Paul walked away, feeling a little winded. “Really, does he know _everything_?”

   “Oh he does,” assured Louis, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, “He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. He probably even has a secret camera planted on you right now. Like, looking down your shirt or something.”

   “Louis!”

   “To make sure you’re not trying to smuggle a bomb in there or something!” he added hastily, but with a hint of a smirk. “You ready for this video, Lowthorne? It’s mind blowing.”

   “I’ve never been to a premiere before,” I said thoughtfully, “Should be interesting. What happens if the system crashes?”

   “Well, that’s a bit of a cock block,” he answered, taking out his phone and checking his tweets. “Twitter time.”

   “You guys are crazy about that thing, aren’t you?” I asked. Louis waved his hand around at the room without looking up from the screen.

   “Look!” he said, “Find…go look at Zayn, Haz, Niall and Liam, they’re all tweeting now too I bet.”

   “It’s incredibly anti-social,” I pointed out, and he rolled his eyes, before making a surprised noise.

   “Oh would you look at that? You’ve hit 50 thousand followers,” he noted and I grabbed his phone off him and stared at the screen.

   “ _What_?”

   “Hey!” he said, trying to grab it back off me, “God Bec, I thought twitter was anti-social.”

   “I feel bad,” I muttered, handing him back his phone, “50 thousand followers, and I’m following like 30 people?”

   “Oh please, you sound like Liam,” huffed Louis, “He has following sprees where he follows every person he sees, and they absolutely love him for it.”

   “And you?”

   “I’ll follow if I’m in a mood,” he answered, his fingers flying across his screen, obviously tweeting something. “Tweeting…ha, look! Niall just tweeted me.”

   “Louis!” I heard Niall yell from across the room as he ran up to us. His hair was done up, soft and fluffy, his eyes bright and a grin on his face. “Bec!”

   “Niall!” He jumped over the couch and plonked down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

   “You ready for this?” he asked, shooting me a confident smile. I raised an eyebrow and smiled slowly.

   “Sure.”

   “What’s with you?” sniped Louis, “You’re very happy.”

   “Am I not allowed to be?” he shot back, jabbing Louis in his shoulder with the arm around me. “Jeez, you’re not a great mood are you?”

   “Wish I could say the same about you,” said Louis, lowering his voice, “I’m not joking, Harry is killing me.” I stiffened and Niall gave me a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t make that face at me.”

   “I’m not!” I protested, “Zayn’s already rode me about this.”

   “Zayn rode you just fine apparently.” I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

   “In fact, Liam’s the only one who hasn’t mentioned it,” I shot back, “I mean, Liam of all people.”

   “Me? What about me?” Liam said as he sat down next to Niall, kicking his feet up.

   “Sixty seconds everyone!” called Zayn waltzing in with a bottle and at once, everybody in the room started shuffling to get a good view of the flat screen. He let out a heavy breath as he sat beside Liam, offering a sip but Liam shook his head. “Guess how many people are tuning in officially on MTV?”

   “Why guess when you can just tell us?” answered Louis snarky.

   “80 thousand!” he said excitedly, “I’m surprised that the server can cope with all of them. There’s like five twitter trends up for it.”

   “You better not disappoint then, Niall,” replied Louis, nudging Niall’s leg with his shoe. Niall’s eyes widened. “That solo in the bridge you have is pretty big.”

   “I…”

   “He can handle it Lou,” I shot back, one hand absent mindedly fiddling with his soft hair. We all fell silent as Harry approached, holding a cold beer and looking sober. He sat next to Louis and we all watched him. I finally spoke.

   “Hi Haz,” I said quietly and he glanced at me, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “How you going?”

   “I’m OK,” he said faintly, with a shrug, turning his attention to the screen. “I’m alright, Bec.” Louis leaned close to my ear and hissed,

   “That’s the nicest thing he’s said all day.” I hardly had time to shoot him a look before the screen lit up with the MTV logo and everyone fell quiet, except Harry apparently, who snapped at Louis,

   “Piss off.” Louis glared at him.

   “You haven’t had to deal with _yourself_ all day,” he snapped back and I ribbed him furiously.

   “Shut up!” I hissed, “It’s starting!”

   “Tell _him_ to shut up,” shot back Louis, folding his arms over his chest, “These past few months that you two have been on and off…”

   “Louis, shut up!” I whispered furiously, but I was certain everyone could hear us over the talk of the television introducing One Direction, with a brief biography of the band.

   “Yeah, if you’re not listening to me, then you should listen to her,” snapped Harry, glaring at Louis.

   “No!” he snarled, turning to him and jabbing his arm towards me, “Because when _she_ goes off, and _you_ throw a hissy fit, who has to put up with it?”

   “Guys, not here,” said Niall in a hushed voice, but Louis rounded on him next.

   “You shut up, Niall,” he replied, narrowing his eyes, “You think we don’t suspect where you go on mornings where you just disappear? There’s the internet, you know, you can’t even be discreet about it.”

   Niall’s face blanched and I felt guilty instantly.

   “You,” I snarled at Louis, dropping my hand from Niall and grabbing Louis’ wrist, “Just shut up, and at least wait until the premiere’s over before you have a go at everyone here who cares about you.” Louis pressed his mouth in a straight line and sat quiet for about five seconds in which Liam was on-screen talking about how they were so lucky.

   The screen faded to black and the background music started to play, but I barely been able to start enjoying it when he obviously couldn’t contain himself anymore.

   “You know what!” Louis said loudly, making us all start abruptly, “I’m sick of it, and I’m pretty sure you three are too, so maybe we should _kick_ Haz out until he can sort out his problems.”

   “What are you even talking about?” demanded Liam, gaping at him.

   “Wasn’t it all just easier when he chased after _one_ girl, then got bored and found another one?” Louis snapped, turning to Harry, “What the hell happened to that, Haz? But no, if you get turned down once, you used not to give an arse about it.”

   “Louis, goddammit save the drama!” scowled Zayn, “The premiere’s already…”

   “Zayn!” howled Louis, and he glared at him, “You can’t talk, your stupid impulsive streaks got us here in the first place!”

   “Lou, I swear,” I snarled under my breath, “Stop it.”

   “And what do you have to say about this?” he demanded, turning to Harry who had actually been silent the entire time. “Any defense for the fact that you have been _dumping_ your problems on us, recently?”

   “He’s your friend,” I snapped, “You’re supposed to help him.”

   “How am I supposed to do that?” cried Louis, throwing his hands up, “Not when it’s _you_ , Bec. It’s different when it’s with you, because we all bloody know you! I can’t tell him to grow a pair and get over you, because you’re hanging around with us every single goddamn day!”

   “Then maybe I should just stay away!” I said loudly, jumping up and suddenly conscious of all the silent eyes in the dark room. “If that’s what you guys want, I’ll just leave and not cause any more trouble, because your peace is obviously far more important than our friendships.”

   Angry beyond belief, I stormed out towards the elevator, swiping another canapé on the way out.

   Stupid, freaking Louis.

   I took a deep shuddering breath as the doors began to grind closed, but a hand shot out and the doors reopened. I stiffened, but it was merely Niall. I caught sight of Paul approaching the boys, brawling on the couch as Harry stood there, holding his beer looking indifferent. Sometimes, I really didn’t understand him.

   “Don’t go,” pleaded Niall, holding the door open with his hand, with a simpering look in his brilliant blue eyes. You could almost lose yourself in them. Hadn’t I, many times? “Come on, Bec, this is what you said this morning right? No running away anymore.”

   “Is staying supposed to help?” I quipped, jabbing the close doors button but Niall stepped into the lift and avoided the doors.

   “Are you trying to make this worse, Bec?” he demanded, coming closer to me, and I just about broke down as soon as he within reach.

   “And are you turning all Louis on me?” I shot back, taking a clear step backwards. “If he comes to talk to me, then he’ll come. Louis didn’t have any problem with my suggestion, so I’ll just stay away.”

   “You’re not serious.”

   “I’m bloody serious, Niall!” I exclaimed, hitting the ground floor button, but he countered it with a jab at the open doors button. The doors opened, once again revealing us to the open room. I smacked the close doors button and glared at him as the doors closed again, sealing us off.

   “You’re running away again, Bec.”

   “He just needs room,” I sighed, looking at my feet.

   “The last thing Harry needs is room,” he pointed out, “Yeah, Louis definitely needs a breather and to get laid soon, but Haz is fine. What he wants is you.”

   “Well, he didn’t say anything.”

   “He- how can you say that?” said Niall incredulously, “Don’t be unreasonable, babe, and don’t pretend like you don’t even remember! Didn’t he go confessing his love for you weeks ago?”

   “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, honest.”

   “Of course he doesn’t,” Niall continued dismissively, “But he believed it enough to say it without a drop of alcohol in him.” I stared at the guy standing across me, with his soft hair, blue eyes and pale lips. Staring back at me. I remember many elevator rides with him.

   How could he be doing this without seeming distraught? If I was helping get together with a girl he cheated on me with, I definitely wouldn’t be dealing with it in a similar way.

   “Babe?”

   “I-Niall, _I_ need a breather,” I blurted, holding my head in my hands and letting out a deep breath, “I need to…to get out of here. It’s all just suffocating.” He cocked his head, opened his mouth to say something, but the elevator jerked and we both started as it began to move upwards.

   “Did you press it?” he demanded, looking around as though he expected someone to pop out of the ceiling and yell,

   “BANG, BANG, IT WAS ME!” I rolled my eyes.

   “I’m not even _near_ that button,” I snapped, “Someone from a higher level must have pressed their button.” He looked at me blankly.

   “This is the highest level.” I blinked.

   “What?”

   The doors opened in to a creepy looking dimly lit room, with a heavy built door leading to who knows what. I was terrified, because this was usually how most horror movies start. Instinctively, I let him take my hand even though we had just been arguing, and he guided me cautiously out of the elevator towards the door.

   I let out a scream as the doors slid shut behind us, making my heart race. I buried my face into his arm and muffled the noise, but he still jumped violently.

   “Where the _hell_ does this go?” I whispered, mixed between completely pissing myself and angry for completely pissing myself. He made a shushing gesture, venturing quietly closer to the door. Our footsteps were as gentle and quiet as we dared; the both of us wearing soft soled Raybans.       

   He extended his hand and the light flickered, causing the both of us to snap our necks, looking up at it. Slowly, he turned his attention back to the door and reached out again, pushing on the bar and shoving it open. I jerked back, not quite prepared for an axe murder to be waiting on the other side of the door to harvest our organs, but was surprised as the cold night air hit our faces.

   Niall squinted and made a surprised noise.

   “We’re on the roof.”

   “The roof?” I repeated, poking out from over his shoulder, “So no body farm?” He laughed, shaking his head and stepping out, still holding my hand. I wondered if I had cut off most of the circulation to it.

   Looking out on the roof, it became clear that our fear was misdirected. On the high roof, the view of London was gleaming around us in the dark night. The air was sharp and crisp, like spring should have been. It was also shit cold.

   I shuddered, as we stepped down some stairs. The roof was flat, completely bare apart from a few electrical transformers and the giant MTV letters in neon writing on the side of the building.

   “London’s so beautiful at night,” I breathed, as we stood looking over the city. “I remember now why I wanted to move here.” He smiled next to me; a familiar smile. The cars chugged out on the orange tinted streets, the bridge was just visible, with the illuminated Big Ben and the London Eye.

   The Thames was pitch black and smooth like velvet.

   We stood there, holding hands, a little cold but relatively peaceful and quiet.

   “Niall?” I said quietly, not taking my eyes off the dark skyline.

   “Mm?” he answered, swinging our hands gently. I hesitated with a pause, but took a deep breath and let it out.

   “I’m sorry for making you miss your big premiere,” I said, with a gulp. Talk about guilty conscience.

   “It’s OK, it’s not like we’re not gonna release any more songs,” he replied with a shrug.

   “That’s not what I mean,” I sighed, tugging his hand slightly and making him face me. “Niall, this was supposed to be your big song. You know, self-written, with the solo. And I just turned up and ruined it all.”

   “No,” he said gently, looking at me and shaking his head. The edge of his lips raised slightly. “It wasn’t your fault, babe. Anyway, like I said…it’s not like we’re not gonna sing more songs. We’ve got a tour coming up, anyway.” I tried not to wince at the mention of it, but it was unavoidable.

   I turned back to face London.

   “When are you guys leaving?”

   “Five weeks. The shows have been finalised, the tickets are going on sale this Friday.” Although I knew I should have been happy for them and their success, it was all I could do feel like total crap about it. Like now there was just going to be a gaping hole in my life with them gone.

   Then again, by the time they got back, I’d be gone wouldn’t I?

   I could feel him moving, taking his hand from mine. I wanted to protest, because it left my hand feeling cold and empty. But instead, he took out something from his pocket. His iPhone. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he was checking his phone up here.

   “You OK?” he asked quietly, glancing up at me as his finger skimmed across the screen. “Need to get something off your chest?”

   “You know me too well,” I said with a short breathy laugh, but I knew I could never tell him anything in fear of it hurting him. That was why I wanted to take care of him. I had hurt him enough for one lifetime, there was no way I would let anyone else do the same.

   “Well, if I’m gonna miss my own premiere, I might as well enjoy myself,” he said, tucking his phone into his pocket. I looked at him, slightly confused, but all that disappeared as I heard the beginning chords of the campfire song emitted from his phone, clear as day.

   I smiled, and I don’t know what happened next but somehow we were dancing it to it, which was either unbelievably corny or extremely sweet. I settled with somewhere in between, as I rested my head against his chest and let myself sway to the music.

   _“Saw you across the subway, you were looking right back. Eyes locked, time stopped, but we were broken again.”_

   I really wanted to ask him Niall what the words meant, but somehow it didn’t seem like right moment to do it.

_“Remember in high school, when I first met you? I thought we’d have it all to ourselves. But ooh, did you think I could stop a heart thief?”_

_“And I thought I could call you mine, you were standing there looking so damn divine. You told me you were done with that, I was the fool for believing all the crap. I thought you said you’d be true…you spent me tripping, tripping, head over heels for you.”_

_“I can’t believe I fell for those lies, thought I saw something in your eyes. You caught me by surprise, twisted my heart in your hand until I died.”_ I let myself smile. His solo.

 _“I never saw him coming, now he’s taken you and he’s gone again. Wish I could rewind, so take me back, take me back, please.”_ Louis. What was I even going to do with him?

   The five launched into the chorus again, a powerful melody. Harry was still the loudest.

 _“I’ve locked myself up and away, and I’m asking myself why didn’t I love you better? And I was so dumb to walk away without a fight, because looking back, I don’t think it’d matter.”_ Finally, Niall’s solo. His final recognition of his beautiful voice, and those fingers on his guitar, and the words tumbling from his mouth to the paper. __

_“And I wish I had, one more day with you. And I can still feel your touch, god when I’m with her, yeah I’m wishing it was you.”_

   I had that breathless sensation sweep over me again, and I was aware of his touch on my waist and my back. Was there ever going to come a day when I didn’t think of him like that ever again?

   As the song slowed down, so did our swaying but I still held onto him tightly to let him know that the last thing I wanted to do was to stop being with him. We slowed down until we finally stopped, the guitar fading. The only sound was the silence.

   I breathed out heavily, watching as a cloud of vapour formed in front of my eyes. I looked up at him. I remember, his eyes were so bright, when I first met him, how in love were we that night? I couldn’t take it, he was even perfect when he cried. But there he was just there, just the same boy who I had met in the rain, and fallen in love with a year ago.

   When had I stopped loving him the way I did?

   I had just about forgotten how to breathe when his iPhone jumped onto shuffle for the next song. I immediately recognised the familiar sound.

   “Is that-?” I choked, dropping his hands and stepping away from him, trying not to smile. “No…” He looked sheepish, pulling his iPhone from his pocket and trying to change the song quickly, but I jumped on him, colliding into his chest and tearing it from his hands.

   “Oi!”

   “Ha, I knew it!” I cried, stepping back and pointing at him as he looked guilty and a little embarrassed. “Justin Bieber- Die in Your Arms. You’re unbelievable, Horan!” I laughed.

   “Give it!” he protested, trying to snatch his phone back, but I dodged out of the way, still laughing. “Aw, don’t tease, Bec.”

   “I’m not- I’m not…” I panted, leaning down on my knees, “I’m not teasing you, it’s a good song.” He looked at me doubtfully.

   “You hate Justin Bieber.”

   “I don’t _hate_ him,” I sighed, “He looks like a douchebag though.”

   “Aw, lay off,” he huffed, just as Justin started singing. I bit my lip and gave him a cheeky smile.

   “I like the song!”

   “Don’t rub it in.”

   “I’m serious, Niall,” I said earnestly, unsuccessfully attempting to keep a straight face. I burst out laughing and he grabbed me around my waist, kissing my temple and I batted him away.

   “Ooh baby!” I cried along with Justin as the chorus ended, “I know loving you ain’t easy, but it sure is worth a try!”

   “You know the words?”

   “Ooh if there is a reason to call me fool,” I yelled, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t look at me like that!” He gave in eventually, singing along because I knew that he couldn’t resist.

   “I can’t help it, I’m just selfish, there’s no way that I could share you!” he shot back, and I joined in, the two of us standing in the biting cold of the rooftop, singing Justin Bieber at the top of our lungs like there was no tomorrow.

   “That would break my heart to pieces, honestly the truth is…”

   “IF I COULD JUST DI-I-I-IE IN YOUR ARMS, I WOULDN’T MIND!” The two of us laughed, though most of our breaths were taken away in the wind and the chill. He wrapped his arms around my waist, opening his jacket and letting me stand huddled against, sharing warmth like a couple of penguins or something.

   Jiggling his leg, he was still clicking his fingers along to the beat in his coat pocket, bumping against my leg.

   “It feels so right,” he sang, cocking his head the way he did every time he performed. I remember watching him on stage a few times back in Australia. The five of them were just naturals. “So baby, baby please don’t stop, girl. If I could just die…”

   “Imma make you believe girl!” I called out, making him laugh.

   “That I wouldn’t mind, no. Eh, oh, don’t stop baby no, it’s what you do to me…” he trailed off, his voice disappearing into the air. Our eyes met again, and he hesitated for a split second, before moving back and forth slowly, as if deciding to whether not to go for it.

   Finally, he pressed his forehead against mine and exhaled deeply through his nose. I closed my eyes, losing myself in his proximity of his warmth and the smell of wood and unwashed clothes. Somehow, our heads turned at the same time and our lips parted.

   They were less than an inch away from each other, I could almost feel him, and I couldn’t count the times I had just _almost_ kissed Niall Horan when I just wanted to. But standing there on the roof, realising that I had nothing left to lose, I thought _screw that_. I had nothing left to lose. Nothing but him.

   He hesitated, his mouth twitching as though he wanted to say many things he couldn’t get his head around, his blue eyes searching mine for any sign of reproach or the likelihood to falter. But I wouldn’t let him pull away this time. I moved in and pressed my lips against his, raising my hand and weaving it through his soft blond hair.

 A wave of emotions tugged at me. There was pain, because I knew that I was weak, and at the same time, I knew it would hurt him too. But at the moment, instead of over-thinking it as I always did, I pushed it all out of the way. No, I didn’t think. I just kissed him.


	25. What Makes You Beautiful

_Present Day  
late March, 2013_

 

  
  
   “Bec! You ho, no wonder nothing gets done around here, where’s-” Tian’s voice carried in the room, and I abruptly opened my eyes, nearly letting out a shocked squeak at the image that greeted me. Harry popped his head up over the edge of the sofa and Tian’s voice stopped, only to be replaced with a loud, terrified scream, which was usually how people reacted to naked Harry Styles.

   I sat up, shoving Harry off of me and he tumbled to the ground with a thump.

   “Ti-Tian!” I cried, but she let out another shriek and turned, running for the door. A little worried, I grabbed my shorts, pulled them on and sprinted after her calling her name. “Ti! _Tian!_ Wait up you-”

   She slammed the door after her, but I wrenched it open and hurried after her, still struggling with my pants. I hopped into them as I stepped out onto the cold concrete ground barefoot.

   Tian was standing there, her eyes wide, clutching her head in her hands looking shocked. I closed the door behind me, feeling irritable.

   “Are you crazy?” I demanded, “Calm down, you didn’t have to scream…”

   “Straight up,” she said breathlessly, shaking her head and looking bewildered. “I can see why you like sleeping him.” I blushed and folded my arms across my chest.

   “Honest, Ti, you can’t-?”

   “Tell anyone?” she finished with a raised eyebrow, “Who do you possibly think I would tell?” Carefully, she took a few steps and leant against the railing. With a sigh, I tiptoed over and sat down next to her, where she stood.

   “I thought…” she cocked her head at the ground with a slight frown, “You were friends. Last time I saw him he was taking you out for your birthday. Have you guys been- well, dating?”

   “Dating?” I repeated with a scoff, “No, no we haven’t.”

   “Yet you’re sleeping with him.”

   “Yet,” I sighed, letting my head loll against her leg. “I’m sleeping with him.”

   “In a bit of a situation there?” she mused, nudging me in the side and I shrugged.

   “Well, I don’t know,” I replied with a bit of a bite, “I haven’t slept with him in about a year, actually.”

   “How long have you known him?” she asked curiously. I opened my mouth, then closed it abruptly again.

   “A year.”

   “Ohoho,” she muttered, with a hint of a smirk, “So why haven’t you guys gone out by now, does he have a thing with commitment? Pet peeves? Or does he have a girlfriend?” She stared at me with wide, expectant eyes.

   I laughed breathlessly.

   “No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

   “And you avoid the rest of my question,” she sighed, before getting up. “Well, if you’re going to start bringing him over a lot more often, maybe we should have rules. For starters, any business you guys get up is restricted to your room, alright? I don’t want to walk in on you guys getting freaky again.”

   “We weren’t…”

   “And where exactly did you guys get up to it last night? Tell me it was just the couch,” she said with a disapproving look on her face. I opened my mouth, but shut it tightly again, feeling my cheeks go red. “Oh,” she added quietly, “Oh _no_. Oh, gross!”

   “Tian, seriously,” I mumbled, trying not to blush, but she cut across me sharply.

   “As soon as he’s gone, you are _disinfecting_ the entire apartment!”

   “Babe?” I looked up, startled to see Niall hovering at the stairs, looking surprised and slightly wary. I stood up quickly at Tian fell silent.

   “Niall. Hi.” His lips stretched into a tight smile and he approached me, eyeing me up and down slowly.

   “Hi Tian,” he said shooting a charming smile and I could see in her expression how taken aback she was that he remembered her name. He rubbed my arms with his warm sleeves and shuddered slightly. “Hey, you.”

   “Is this one making a habit of dropping around too?” Tian shot in, but I interrupted her.

   “What’s up?”

   “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, avoiding the question, “You’re wearing shorts and t-shirt.” I could tell that Tian was absolutely itching to say something, but I shot her a look and answered before she could.

   “It was warmer in my apartment.”

   “So what are you doing out here?” he asked quizzically.

   “Oh,” I said lightly with a shrug, “Just you know, talking.” Tian snorted and he glanced at her.

   “Never mind me,” she said sarcastically, “I’ll head back inside where there’s hopefully no random strangers walking around stark naked.” Niall looked a little confused, but brushed it off as Tian waltzed back inside, closing door with a snap behind her.

   There was no way I was taking Niall inside; the potential awkwardness of the entire situation was too much to handle this early in the morning.

   “Can we walk?” he suggested, and I jumped at the idea immediately. The day was turning into another surprisingly beautiful one, but still cold as hell. We reached the bottom of the stairs, with him somewhat unscarred from a Roofie collision, and set our way across the green, watching as a few kids kicked around some balls.

   “You’re quiet,” he noted, “What’s the matter?” Was it really that obvious that I was bothered by something? “Oh come on, Bec. Did something happened last night?”

   “Many things happened last night,” I laughed, shaking my head at the ground. I stopped momentarily to kick at a place on the grass, before continuing on. “Many.”

   “How did your talk go with Harry?” he asked, and I looked up, squinting at him. “Did you guys work things out?”

   Oh most definitely. We worked it all out by having sex and rolling around my apartment naked until the morning.

   “We…I think the understanding’s more mutual now,” I finished vaguely.

   “So he won’t be showing up in a mood?” Well hopefully not.

   We stopped halfway up the field and he took my hand gently, and guided me up the bleachers, where we sat down. At once, he reached up and took his hoodie up, to my surprise. He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully, still shuddering as my bare legs were revealed to the cold.

   He reached down, and pulled my legs so they were lying across his, and slowly used his hands to rub warmth into them. Oh, good lord, what was he trying to do to me? I sighed, shifting closer to him, tucking my hands into the front of the hoodie and leaning my head on his shoulder.

   “Niall?”

   “Mm?” His hands slowed down slightly, but they rested just below my knees.

   “Babe…” I trailed off uncertainly. I stared out at the green, but I could see James Logan kicking a soccer ball around with his mates. He looked up and stared at me distractedly, clearly missing as his team mate passed him a shot and flew past his head.

   “You should come back today, to hang out with us,” he suggested, “If you’re feeling right then…”

   “Do people think we’re getting back together?” I cut across him, in an attempt of a thoughtful voice.

   “What?” he said distractedly, “Y-you and Harry?” He started rubbing my legs again.

   “No,” I said slowly, “You and I.” He looked at me intensely for a moment, before choosing to speak.

   “Is this about that kiss last night on the roof?” I looked down, avoiding his eye and feeling slightly ashamed. “Bec…”

   “Just forget I mentioned it.”

   “No,” he said firmly, taking my hands in his. “I promise, you don’t have to explain a thing.”

   “E-explain?” I repeated weakly, finding myself incapable of meeting his burning blue eyes. One hand tucked under my chin and forced me to.

   “Hey, we’re friends,” he said quietly, “And friends…do things they don’t mean to sometimes. I get it. You get it.” I blinked feebly and nodded in assent. “Actually, it’s just like what happened with Zayn.” Oh Niall, only if you know how unlike this was to what happened with Zayn.

   “Yeah,” I said, finally finding my voice, “Thanks Nialler. I know I can always trust you to understand.” He gave me a small smile, and pressed his forehead against mine again as he continued to rub warmth into my legs. We were quiet for a few moments, just sitting and enjoying the day. The sun drifted out and behind thin clouds, casting shapes over the grass.

   “There’s something else.”

   He looked at me expectantly, and I caught a fleeting glance of that open expression I fell for so hard before I hurt him, I almost forgot what I had to said.

   “What is it?” he asked eventually.

   “I did…something last night.”

   “Mm?” he prompted, keeping one hand on my legs, and leaning back on the other one. “Yeah?”

   “Right now,” I said slowly, closing my eyes and drawing my knees closer to my chest. “Right…now, Harry is my apartment.” He blinked, staring emptily into my eyes for a split second.  

   “Harry?” he repeated thickly, “What’s he doing in your apartment?” I just stared and waited for him to get to the conclusion. It took him a few moments, but realisation finally dawned on his face.

   “You…”

   “I stopped trying to fight it,” I blurted burying my face my hands. “I just…let everything else take control.” He was silent for an alarmingly long time, forcing me to glance sideways between my fingers at him.

   His face was indescribable. It was the exact same expression he had worn a year ago when I told him I had cheated on him with Harry. Like he had been punched in the gut.

   “Niall,” I mumbled softly and he quickly changed his composure when he looked at me. “Can you tell me your honest opinion?”

   “Of what?”

   “Do you think I’m a slut?” I asked. He blinked and shook his head, taking a while to find the words.

   “Once you spend enough time around Harry, no one seems like a slut anymore,” he answered with a humourless laugh. I sat up, feeling taken aback.

   “Are you _upset_?” I demanded and he looked indignant.

   “No, I’m not _upset_ ,” he replied with a hint of anger, “I’m just confused. I mean, recently, Harry’s been clear about what he wants. But Bec, one minute you’re saying you don’t care, then you do, then you’re sleeping with him…”

   “No,” I interrupted him sharply, “I know what I want now.” He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

   “And that is?” he said flatly. Feeling slightly peeved, I pulled my legs off his and curled up in a tight ball, fixing my eyes on the field. He sighed and sat up, dusting his hands off. “Bec, don’t pout.”

   “I’m not pouting!” I cried, “I just thought you’d understand, Niall, you _always_ do.”

   “Well I’m sorry, but I can’t now.”

   “Fine,” I snapped, standing up, “Because honestly, maybe I should be talking about it over with Harry to see where we stand, more than with you.”

   “Bec,” he said gently, taking my hand to stop me from leaving. “I’m not angry with you. I just _don’t_ understand why you did it.”

   “Why I slept with him?” I clarified, tugging away from him, but he clung on tightly. “Because I wanted to!”

   “And have you ever _not_ wanted to?” he snapped, his eyes flashing. I dropped his hand abruptly, not suited to the uncharacteristic aggression that he had adopted. He let out a deep sigh, leaning his elbows on his knees, knotting his fingers together and dipping his forehead against it. He jiggled his leg distractedly, breathing deeply, as I stood there, explicably waiting. Eventually, he looked up.

   “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his usual direct gaze, “It’s just…shock wearing off. Could you at least tell me what happened last night?” I blinked, then sat back beside him hesitantly.

   “You know what happened.”

   “I mean before that,” he corrected, “Surely you talked?” I shrugged.

   “Yeah, I guess we did.”

   “Then tell me.” His face was apologetic, yet his sea blue eyes were so distant, I realised there wasn’t a thing I wouldn’t do to bring them back to me. So, of course, I told him everything.

 

***

 

   Niall hesitated, his mouth twitching as though he wanted to say many things he couldn’t get his head around, his blue eyes searching mine for any sign of reproach or the likelihood to falter. But I wouldn’t let him pull away this time. I moved in and pressed my lips against his, raising my hand and weaving it through his soft blond hair.

 A wave of emotions tugged at me. There was pain, because I knew that I was weak, and at the same time, I knew it would hurt him too. But at the moment, instead of over-thinking it as I always did, I pushed it all out of the way. No, I didn’t think. I just kissed him.

   I didn’t know how long we stood there, just kissing, neither of us pulling away. I didn’t question it at the time, but I would end doing just that anyway. We were finally pulled apart by the sound of the heavy built doors leading from the elevator swinging away.

   Breathless I took a clear step back and spotted Harry, glancing around and finally spotting us. I waved but he didn’t reciprocate, merely walking over, hands tucked in the pockets of his blazer. His curly hair was a mess. He looked up as he came closer.

   “Hello,” he said, more to me than Niall, who stood there, staring at me blankly.

   “Hi Haz,” I breathed, “How did you find us?” Nice way to start off. I sounded like a guilty teenager who had been caught fooling around.

   “The elevator came from up,” he replied warily, before turning to Niall, “Can I borrow her for a while?” He nodded, turning away to look back over London. Harry stood there, hands tucked in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels, let out a deep breath.

   “What’s up?” I asked, swallowing and hoping that it didn’t appear too much that I was ruffled.

   “I just really wanted to talk to you,” he said, “Do you think that maybe what Louis said was you know, a little… right?”

   “You know what,” I said, sparing a glance over my shoulder at Niall who had his back to us, “Maybe we should just go for a walk. I need to be getting back to my place soon anyway.”

    “Sure,” he said, “I’ll walk you home. You’ll be alright, Niall?”

   “What?” said Niall distractedly, turning around, “I-uh, of course. I’ll be fine, you guys go ahead.”

   By the time Harry and I made it out onto the cold street again, I realised just how much I missed him. Him and his stupid curls and pretty eyes and little smiles and smirks.

   “Are you angry at Louis?” he asked as we strolled along the sidewalk. “I am, a little.”

   “Am I angry at him for what?” I replied, “If you were angry, you didn’t show it much.” He turned his head up to the sky and sniffed.

   “Yeah,” he murmured, “I don’t show much apparently.”

   “Is this all about the Zayn incident?” I asked cautiously, “Why you’re acting like this?”

   “A bit,” he admitted, “Maybe Louis was right, you know. About me dumping stuff on them, and pulling them into stuff they didn’t need to be.”

   “Don’t defend him,” I replied, “Did you hear half the things he said in there? You can’t really believe half of it?”

   “Well it’s Louis,” he answered with a half chuckle, “There’s only meaning between about half of what he says anyway. The rest is just sass.”

   I smiled.

   “You two are so gay.” He shot me a mock offended look.

   “Gays would be _offended_ by that,” he said, pointing at me accusingly.

   “No gays would be offended that you’re one of them.”

   “Urgh, what am I even going to do with you?” he demanded, but with a small smile. We kept walking but I nudged him in ribs with my elbow.

   “Truly though,” I said with a sigh and puff of warm air gathering around my face, “Louis’ harmless, his bite is in his words. He was just in a bad mood.”

   “Yeah, because I’ve been a moping mess all day.”

   “Have you?”

   “Well, not really,” he said, struggling slightly to find the right words, “I mean, I thought I _tried_ to act normal.”

   “You tried?” I repeated, shaking my head, “And _that_ is where you crash and burn, Haz.”

   He shot me an amused glance and made a ‘pffft’ noise, mussing up my white beanie. I huffed as I pulled out of his reach and readjusted my beanie.

   “You seem tired,” he said, regarding me quietly, “Are you alright, Bec?”

   “Honestly?” I said with a sigh, staring up at the sky, crowded with tall buildings and bright lights. “It sucks. I feel like…I just feel so confined.”

   “Confined?” he repeated. I shuddered, and he reached up, pulling off his scarf. He stopped me and adjusted it carefully around my neck. “There. Continue?”

   I could hardly laugh at him when he was treating me with such serious concern.

   “It’s nothing.”

   “How is it nothing?” he mused, “You seemed fine when you first moved to London.”

   “Yeah, cos I was,” I admitted with a shrug, “But things are changing. I feel so trapped under it all.” To my surprise, he was nodding.

   “I get it.”

   “Do you?”

   “Don’t sound so surprised, Rebecca,” he sniped and I pushed my lips into a firm straight line. “I’m not Superman.”

   “I know,” I said and he rolled his eyes. “But do you _really_ understand what I feel like? You know like you can’t breathe, and everything I think is just-”

   “Crazy?” he finished, “Like you want to distance yourself from it all, but you can’t?” I stared at him and breathed out eventually when I realised I hadn’t for some time.

   “Yeah,” I said quietly, “Exactly.”

   “You’re not alone,” he said, “You’re not the only one, Bec.”

   “What are we, X-Men?” I demanded, “I know I’m not the only one, it’s not like I’m a special case or anything. But Hazza, it’s still a pain in the ass.”

   “Isn’t it always?” he muttered, ducking his head, letting the curls fall across his eyes. “Cor, Bec, you look like you might be sick or something.”

   “Yeah, it’s not great,” I huffed, “I need… _freedom_. I need to just get out!” I kept walking but became aware half way there that he had stopped. I turned around and found him staring at me. “What?”

   “I know the place,” he said quietly, grabbing my hand and pulling me along quickly. I followed him blindly.

   “Where are you taking me?” I asked, slightly confused.

   “You’ll see,” he answered mysteriously. Through the muffled layers of clothing, I could still feel the gentle warmth and pressure of his hand against mine. We ended up catching a bus, up to some god forsaken little corner of North London.

   We climbed off the bus, and I looked around at the strangely empty streets.

   “Is this where you rape your dates?” I inquired, prodding him with his foot. He made a face at me, and waved me down the street, past an amazing smelling pizza shop. I hovered momentarily outside it, drawn in by the intoxicating smell, but I pulled myself away quickly as Harry called out my name and tugged me along.

   “Where are we again?” I asked, jogging up next to him and he continued to walk briskly.

   “Somewhere in Hackney.”

   Yeah, well I didn’t pass geography, Styles. I clearly had no idea where the hell Hackney was on the map. I followed him until he led me through a gate towards what looked like a school.

   “Harry?” I ventured quietly, because I could never get over being in a school after school hours. It didn’t make any sense to me. “Are we breaking into a primary school?”

   He shushed me and guided me across the grounds, past the school until we reached an expansive area that vaguely resembled a park. We’d been walking for some time when he stopped abruptly, and stared up at the sky. I copied him, seeing absolutely nothing, before looking at him again.

    “What are we doing?”

   “What do you see, Bec?” he asked quietly. I looked up again before I answered truthfully.

   “Nothing.”

   He let a deep breath.

   “Exactly.” He stared at the sky for a bit longer, before he offered me his arm. I raised an eyebrow, but accepted it nonetheless.

   “So are you about to tell me where we are and why we’re here?” I asked but he merely grinned his face off and shook his head.

   “Just one more thing.” He squinted in the darkness, and pointed out a lone standing brick building, tiny, with a flat concrete roof and pulled me over. “Here it is. My little hide-out.”

   I hung back warily.

   “I’m not going in there,” I said firmly, “You can drag me from hell and back, Harry Edward Styles, I am not going into damp little hole with you.” He laughed and shook his head.

   “Yeah, I knew that was pushing it a little,” he admitted, but he patted the unseen ladder on the other side of it. “But I don’t go in. No, I go up on the roof.” I watched as he legged himself up the ladder and climbed onto the flat concrete roof which was actually quite high. I peered up at him.

   “Well, that’s not much of an improvement,” I called out after him as he disappeared over the edge. I stepped back until I could see him again, sitting cross legged on the roof.

   “The view’s much better from here,” he replied, not having to speak very loudly seeing as we were the only two here and apart from that, it was deathishly quiet. “Come on Bec, I brought you all the way here just to show you this.”

   Giving in, I approached the building again, and climbed the rust ladder, trying to ignore the general disgust of whole situation. I finally reached the top and tumbled down beside him gracefully, wiping my hands excessively on my leggings.

    “Completely unsanitary,” I mumbled, pushing myself upright into a sitting position. He was quiet though, his eyes fixed on something at the horizon. I followed his gaze and squinted slightly.

   “Is that…London?” I asked incredulously, adjusting myself slightly, “I didn’t know we were that far away.” From here, the city just looked like a giant, glittering diamond.

   “I come here sometimes,” he said quietly, with a small smile on his face, “When I get flustered, to clear my head, all that shit. It’s a breather, just to look at that and distance myself from it all, even if it just physically.”

   “Haz?” He glanced at me, the distant lights catching in his green eyes. “Why here?” He swallowed, then shuffled over closer to me, an arm wrapping around my waist and pointing out the school we had just passed over to the left.

   “You see that there?” he asked in a slightly removed tone, “That’s Downview School. And if you can just make it out…to the right, there’s Stormont House Special School.” I studied his face closely.

   “Did you go there?” I asked timidly and he laughed drily, shaking his head.

   “Have you forgotten I’m a Holmes boy?” he shot back, bumping me with his shoulder and shooting me a sad looking smile. I felt sort of sheepish. “No, I donated some money to them so I can wonder around here whenever I feel like and they don’t mind. Sometimes if they’re in school, I drop by to help out, you know?”

   “How are they different, then?” He stared at me, before turning his gaze back to distant London.

   “They’re special needs schools.” It took me a moment to process it, but once I had, he seemed a little guilty- what, of being such a truly generous and decent person under the douchebag? With a slightly disbelieving sigh, I leant my head against his shoulder and stared at London with him.

   “So when do you come out here?” I asked quietly, “A lot?”

   “Recently,” he replied, his arms hanging loosely around his knees drawn near his chest. “Yeah. I just lie here sometimes and say random shit out loud, and leave. It actually helps.”

   “So what, like a confession sort of thing?”

   “It’s not like _church_ Bec,” he said scornfully, “Half the things I say here, no priest should ever hear.”

   “I don’t doubt it,” I sniggered, “So then what, you just say them out loud and they all go away?”

   “Oh no,” he said, “They never go away. But, for a moment at least, I can breathe.” His eyes raised slightly to the clear sky and I followed them hesitantly. A light gust of wind passed us and I clung to him tighter, desperate for warmth.

   “You go first, then,” I prompted, nudging him with my elbow. He looked at me in surprise. “You and your confession.”

   “You really wanna do this?”

   “I wanna try,” I countered, “Come on, anything.” He bit his lip, thinking for a moment.

   “OK, got one,” he said, shifting closer and turning to me, mischief playing in his eyes. “OK, I borrowed Liam’s straightener once and straightened my hair. For one day.”

   “You _what_?” I yelped, shoving him over, “Are you _crazy,_ Haz?” He laughed, sitting back up immediately.

   “It was for one day! Anyway, I locked myself in my room and showered until it curled back up again,” he said indignantly, prodding me with his foot. “Your turn, Lowthorne.” I thought for a minute, trying to think of something that I could possibly say.

   “When I was about ten,” I began slowly, “I used to drink my milk cold because I thought it would make me stronger. You know, like Michelin Man.”

   “Cold milk?” he repeated deftly, raising his eyebrows. “Michelin Man?”

   “Shut up I was a weird kid.”

   “No doubt,” he smirked, and I had half a mind to shove him off the roof just to see if he would bounce with all that air in his head. “Alright, one more from me.”

   “What about something recently?”

   “Fine,” he said dismissively, picking distractedly at the concrete with his fingernail, “I came here the night you told me about Zayn.” I sat there quietly for about a minute. Yes, I knew eventually we couldn’t dodge around the pressing matter for much longer.

   “Me?” I continued, and he nodded, not looking me in the eye. I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out an exasperated puff of air. I leant forward on my knees, my beanie making my forehead itch slightly. I could think of only one clear confession at the moment.

   _I kissed Niall_.

   Shit, yeah. No. I wasn’t going to say that.

   His gentle touch made me start abruptly out of my internal monologue-stream-of-consciousness I had going on. Harry’s hand was pushing the top of my beanie up slightly to keep it out of my eyes. Even his eyes were soft. He opened his mouth, before shutting it tightly and looking a little embarrassed.

   “Wouldn’t want it covering those eyes,” he said eventually, his hand resting against my forehead for a lingering moment, before pulling away. “So Bec, what is this confession of yours?”

   “I-“ There was one only other suggestion floating in my brain.

   _I’m leaving London._

   Oh, like _hell_ I was going to tell him that. Not a chance.

   “Don’t tell me I brought you all the way here and you don’t have a single thing you can think of?”

   I let out an exasperated sigh and fell onto my back, staring up at the sky.

   “I wish…I was just- _free_.”

   “What?” he said, lying down beside me, hands lying on his chest. He cocked his head to one side. I realised I had practically whispered the words, as though saying them any louder might hurt.

   “I wish I was free.” He turned to stare at me, with those melting green eyes, wide and persistent.

   “Free?” he repeated, “Like what?”

   “Like- like a bird!” I cried, my voice echoing across Hackney Downs, and I raised my arms, flapping them around, “CAW CAW CAW!” I guess if it was anyone else, they would have smacked their hand over my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up. But Harry didn’t.

   Instead, he laughed his head off, curling up in a tiny ball of curly hair and polyester.

   “And how do you feel now?” he asked, emerging eventually slightly breathless. I grinned at him, actually feeling a lot better.

   “Great,” I said, sitting up, “I know what I want now.” His eyes widened and he sat up as well, patiently listening. “I want…”

   “Yer?” he prompted, taking my hand in his, “What do you want, Bec?” I bit my lip, then looked him right in the eye.

   “Goddammit, I want some pizza from that place you yanked me away from.” At first, he blinked in confusion before chuckling. He pressed his forehead against mine, in a way similar to Niall and I resisted the urge to pull away.

   “OK then,” he agreed finally, “Let’s go get pizza.”

   Luckily, the place was still open as I grabbed his hand and practically sprinted inside, almost passing out by the smell of wood fire, dough and meat. I wasn’t capable of formulating much with my mouth with drooling, so he ordered instead, and we sat down at a table. Apart from us, there was only one man sitting near the window.

   When our food arrived, I shamelessly admit to devouring most of it. He didn’t seem to mind though, as I had been suppressing myself to high class One Direction worthy canapé all night. In fact, he just regarded me with an amused expression and I hungrily ate myself through a pizza and a few slices of garlic bread. I left the rest of the loaf to him, but he wrapped it up in its foil and tucked it away, probably for later.

   Always the wiser.

   It was warm, so we stayed there as long as we could, but eventually it started getting too late to hang around this part of London anymore safely. So we gathered our stuff, paid and walked out, to catch the bus back. The trip didn’t take long- but we spent most of it counting the number of canary cars on the streets there and punching each other.

   Finally, we pulled up right outside a campus gate to London U. He hovered warily outside for a second and I turned, a little confused why he was holding back.

   “H-?”

   “If I come inside with you,” he said wearily, looking exhausted, “Do you promise we’ll actually talk about what we have to? You know, instead of trekking across North London, breaking into schools and gorging at pizza diners?” Hesitantly, I pressed my lips together. So finally this part of the night had come.

   “I promise,” I said weakly and he nodded, stepping through the gates with me. At once, our hands found each other almost instinctively in the chill and we walked along the pathway only lit by a few lamps, but mostly by the afterglow of the flood lights from the empty field.

   “Look Bec,” he said quietly, swinging our hands back and forth gently, “To be honest, I know I have no right to be angry at you for what you did.” I looked at him closely, choosing my answer carefully.

   “Don’t you? You always have a reason, Haz.”

   “Not this time.” The conversation dulled for a moment, and I thought back to that night.

   “What about that cryptic text you sent me?” I asked, “’you don’t’? I don’t _what_?”

   “What I meant was you didn’t need to be sorry,” he sighed, ducking his head so I all I could see was curls, while the rest of his face was buried in his scarf. Maybe I should have guided him into a tree to see if he was really paying attention or not. “I went to have a good hard think, and I realised that there was no point being angry at you anymore.”

   I listened intently, because he seemed to be on a roll at the moment.

   “I mean, it’s not like I have a sovereign right over you.” He finally emerged from the scarf. “I’ve been acting like I do have some sort of control or power, but in all honestly, I don’t. I think it was just the fact that I cared about too much.”

   “Too much?” I repeated, not really understanding.

   “Too much for me,” he clarified, “You heard Louis, didn’t you? That’s what I’m used to; chasing a girl, getting bored then chasing another one. But you-you’re different.”

   “Because,” I demanded irritably, “I didn’t just fall into your arms willing- OK, maybe I did. But _after_ that I didn’t go parading back into to y- OK, alright, I sort of did…”  

   “It doesn’t matter,” he said kindly putting me out of my misery, “I’ve been pining for you for, what- a year now?”

   “Is this you pining for me, Harry?” I said, amused and he made an exasperated noise, tugging me along the path by my hand.

   “You refuse to believe it, but you act like it,” he said finally, “Like you are different from the rest of the girls I’m used to being with.”

   “What, because I don’t want to play your games?” He stared at me with those intense eyes.

   “That’s _exactly_ why you’re different,” he answered openly, before dropping his gaze as we continued walking. “You’re stubborn as fuck, Bec, and that pisses the shit out of me sometimes. But who knows, maybe I might need someone like that to straighten me out.”

   I snorted.

   “You need a professional therapist to straighten you out,” I retorted and he rolled his eyes.

   “What I mean is that I’m not gonna stop caring,” he admitted, “I don’t think I could if I tried. But, from now on, I’m not going to try change anything you do that I don’t agree with. I won’t stand in the way…of whatever makes you happy.”

   “Harry…” I said quietly as he reached with his other hand and pulled out his phone, brushing the screen a few times.

   “Even,” he sighed, holding it out to me. It was Sugarscape, the website which was practically obsessed with One Direction. And there was a page- for _me_. Wow, did people really have so much time on their hands? I looked closer.

   As he scrolled down with his finger, and I watched as photos of the boys and I. There was one of Zayn and I, paired with a picture of him shirtless through the apartment blinds with me standing across from him. Oh shitake, I should have known.

   “Even,” he continued, “If it means with Zayn.” I looked at him, startled why he’d even think that. Then again, from that photo, it was no wonder everyone thought Zayn and I might have been something.

   “What are you saying?” I said quietly.

   “What I’m saying,” he said, breathing out heavily and tucking his phone away. “Is that I don’t mind if you date Zayn. You can, and I promise I won’t stand in your way.” I was completely lost for words- this definitely how I envisioned this conversation to go.

   “Harry Styles, you’re unbelievable.” He looked at me, and I pulled my lips into a disbelieving smile. “You’re unbelievable.” He chuckled and shook his head.

   “And there’s one more thing.”

   “Really?” I prompted, nudging him as we passed the illuminated field. “What more could you possibly say?”

   “For…this to work,” he said carefully, stopping and still clinging to my hand. “We need to promise each other something. That we’ll be honest with each other from now other, or it’s not always going to turn out well.”

   “Honest?” I repeated. He nodded firmly. Our eyes were locked when the moment was abruptly ruined with the chime of my own phone. Quickly, I pulled it out, to see I had a new message. I was tempted to just turn it off, but I noticed it was from Liam.

   “Who is it?” asked Haz.

   “Liam,” I said flatly with a sigh, pressing the open button.

 

               liam.p says: DON’T B ANGRU.  http:// <private link>

   I hesitated, glancing up at him but he waved his hand at me acceptingly.

   “Go on, it’s alright.” I gave him a brief grim smile, and hit the link. It took a while, but it took a while. I turned back to him while waiting.

   “You’re right, we can’t keep doing this,” I admitted, “So from now on, it’s all honesty?” He breathed heavily and nodded, never taking his eyes off me. I glanced down at my phone- reading the article heading- HARRY STYLES RUMOURED FLING WITH MARRIED RADIO DJ.

   I didn’t know what to think. Much less, I didn’t know what to _say_. He was whispering something to me, as I stared up at him.

   “Honest.”

 

***

 

   “…and _that’s_ why you slept with him?” said Niall incredulously, looking startled. “But he slept with a married woman!”

   “I know,” I emitted weakly, before shaking my head angrily, “I’m the biggest idiot, but he’s Harry Styles. All those words, now I think they’re just…blab.” I hadn’t realised but tears were welling in my eyes. I rubbed at them quickly, but not before Niall pulled me into a tight hug.

   “I don’t even know what to do anymore,” I whispered with a sniff. He just held me, one hand resting in my hair, and he moved his head slightly, as if to look up over my shoulder.

   “Well maybe you should tell him to put a shirt on and get off your balcony.” I whipped around to see shirtless Haz, squinting around off my balcony. Did he have a _death wish_?

   Rubbing my eyes hastily, I stood up, torn between what to do.

   “Are you upset at him for it?” Niall asked, standing up as well, looking as though he didn’t want to be spotted. “For having an affair?”

   “He’s Harry, of course I expected something like this,” I replied dismissively, though in retrospect, I never saw this coming. That was why it had hit like a ton of bricks. “I just…wish he had told me.”

   “I thought you guys talked?”

   “We did,” I sighed, “But now, I realised it was all about the wrong things.” I turned back to him and back him a quick hug. “Thanks for understanding, Niall. Even if you don’t.”

   “’s alright,” he said muffled into the hoodie of his I was still wearing. “I’m trying to, babe.” I pulled away, and stared pulling his hoodie off but he waved it at me. “It’s fine, just keep it.” Grateful, I waved at him and stared jogging down the steps of the bleachers, before stopping and turning to him abruptly again.

   “Niall?”

   “Yeah, babe?” he called back.

   “One more thing,” I said, holding my hand up to shield my eyes from the bright glow of the sun. “Did you…you guys, know about the affair?” He blinked down at me, looking slightly weary.

   “Bec, we tell each other everything,” he said finally, after hesitating, “But there are some things we don’t even need to say for the others to understand.” I stared at him, wondering why these boys couldn’t just give me straight up yes or no answers, before flouncing off back to my apartment.

   I jogged up the stairs, walked across the open hall and wrenched the door open, snapping it shut behind me. Harry was still out on the balcony, but he had heard me enter, turning abruptly and coming back inside with a small smile on his face.

   “There you are,” he said quietly, “I went looking for you, I couldn’t see you.” Well at least I know he didn’t see Niall either. But Niall wasn’t the first thing on my mind- in fact, the only thing I could think of when I saw him was the headline from last night. He must have seen in my expression because he raised an eyebrow, and his hand immediately rested on my shoulder. “Hey, hey, are you OK?”

   I stared at him disbelievingly. Was he for real?

   “Do I look OK?” I demanded, and when he still looked surprised, I made an exasperated noise. “Have you _not_ seen the morning news?” Gently, gaze flickering between me and the television, he reached down picked up the remote and flicked it to the news.

   “… _and breaking entertainment news here…One Direction member Harry Styles has reportedly engaged in an affair with married 103 DJ Lucy Horobin. Reports emerged only last night, yet already fans have taken to Twitter to express their-”_

His face was a mask of horror. Immediately he hit the off button and turned back to me, my arms folded across my chest, disapproval burning in my eyes.

   “I can explain,” he began.

   “I don’t _want_ you to explain,” I interrupted him, “I know what it is, because you’re you, but all that stuff that you said last night…”

   “I meant all of it,” he insisted, “I swear, Bec.”

   “What use is that if all of it’s rubbish? Like with _this_ for example?” I demanded, “Maybe an affair with a married woman is nothing to you, but if you haven’t noticed, everyone else here is _freaking out_!”

   “It was while ago, Bec.”

   “ _How_ while ago?” I said.

   “A…after the Up All Night tour,” he admitted, “Mid last year, before you got here.”

   “And when did it end?”

   “Just before you got here,” he said, pressing his lips together, “God Bec, you have no idea. This wasn’t how I planned to start this.”

  1.    “With another lie?” I said with a humourless laugh, “Yeah, not a great way to kick it off.”          



    “Are you upset with me?”

   “Of course I am,” I snapped staunchly, “Not because you slept with her- you sleep with everyone. I’m upset because you could convince me so well last night that you’d happily lie through your teeth to save us.”

   “I didn’t lie.”

   “No, you didn’t say anything, which if possible, is worse!” I spat angrily. “God Haz, I didn’t want to start it like this either. I wanted…”

   “You weren’t sure last night,” he interrupted. “What makes you sure you know now? What do you want from _me_?”

   “I- this…I don’t even know anymore,” I said hesitantly, turning away.

   “You don’t know if you love me.” It was a clear statement, yet why did I feel the strongest urge to refute it? The words slipped from my lips before I could even stop and think about the consequences.

   “Of course I _love_ you, I just wish you had told me!”

   He stared at me, uncomprehending. His mouth hung open slightly, and I became conscious of me doing the same thing. I closed it tightly again. I couldn’t stop the redness in my cheeks.

   “W-what did you say?”

   “I…I just wish you had told me!” I repeated in the same indignant tone, but with less bravado behind it. I tried to turn away, but he jumped forward, grabbing my hand. Behind the forwardness of the gesture, his gentle voice rattled me.

   “Bec?”

   “D-don’t…”

   “You said it,” he reveled quietly, a growing smile spreading across his face, and incredulity in his eyes, “You actually-” I groaned, trying to pull away, but he clung tighter and I tried to hit him.

   “Get off! Harry, really!”

   “You love me!” he laughed manically, yanking me closer to him and both of us losing our breaths momentarily as between the half discarded layers of clothes, as we huddled together, one arm pulled around my waist, the other reaching up and brushing hair from my eyes. “Phew, for a second there, I thought you were just gonna leave me _hanging_ Bec.”

   I had to laugh.

   “Asshole,” I muttered, pulling myself away. He let me go, but his gaze and his foolish smile still followed me. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, you’ll still be here when I get out?” He nodded patiently and I disappeared into the bathroom.

   I pulled my clothes off distractedly, and stepped freely under the hot water, trying to clear my head and register what I had just said. Had I even been thinking when I had said it? I could sense, just by a tick, that where I stood now, when I would emerge from that bathroom was a fork in the road. There were two things I could do.

   First, was to complete throw a fit at Harry for lying to me, or ‘not telling me’ or whatever. Then to proceed to rip his heart out and stomp on it by saying that I didn’t mean to say that I loved him, because I didn’t. Was that lying or not? More thoughts swum in my head.

   Or, I could choose to do what I had admitted to- to loving him, and letting the past go. I mean, it wasn’t like the Emma-Ellis thing which was going on right under my nose. In fact, the rumours, allegations and actual _fact_ were so stiflingly resembling to something he would have done, that it made me want to smile piteously.

   God, I was really overthinking this.

   Stepping out, feeling refreshed and breathless as the cooler air swept over my steaming skin; I wrapped my towel around me, gathered my clothes in my arms and hurried out, hoping to make it to my room without confrontation.

   I wrenched open my door, threw my clothes blindly inside and shut it tightly behind me. I barely had time to press my back to my door when I jumped, seeing him lying face down on my bed, head turned to me.

   “Your friend kicked me out of the kitchen,” he bleated and I let out a breathy laugh, walking over and lying down next to him. He shifted over to give me more room, and I lay my damp hair down on the pillow, knowing full well how unhygienic it was.

   “At least you’ve got pants on this time,” I replied, motioning to his track pants and he shrugged. Better than when she saw him last.

    “I found them lying on your floor,” he admitted sheepishly and I sat up, feeling my cheeks go red.

   “You found them _where_?”

   “On your floor,” he repeated, struggling to sit up too, “Why, are they yours?” To be honest, I didn’t even know I had track pants like those in my room. They certainly weren’t mine. I suspected that they might have been Lakyn’s but I didn’t mention it.

   “Never mind,” I said dismissively, crawling off the bed, grabbing my messy clothes and adding them to the pile on my ground. I pointed to the door. “Out, Haz, I need to get dressed.” He raised his hands and locked his fingers together, resting his head back on them and regarding me in a way that almost made me feel conscious.

   “Why can’t I just stay here and watch?”

   “Watch me get dressed?” I demanded, picking up his boxers lying on the ground. “Because its fucking creepy? Come on, out you get.” I tossed his boxers at him and they landed on his face. He batted them away quickly, sitting up with a sigh and strolling out slowly, rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other with his balled up boxers in it.

   Smiling to myself, I quickly got dressed, tied my hair up in a ponytail and walked out to find him helping himself to my food.

   “Sorry,” he said with a mouthful of cereal, “I was hungry.” I walked up to him, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, before slapping it lightly.

   “Whatever, Styles,” I replied lightly, turning to the fridge and opening it. It occurred to me that I must be in a half mental state if I didn’t mind him eating my breakfast.

   I pulled out the milk and drank it straight from the carton. He turned around as I was chugging it down, and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his lap. I nearly choked on the milk, but I did admittedly enjoy the feel of sitting in his lap. He shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth casually and I studied him closely.

   He seemed in a relatively good mood compared to yesterday.

   “So,” he said, finishing off his cereal eventually and putting the bowl down. “This…isn’t going to work if we both don’t understand what we’re getting into.”

   “What’s not going to work?” I asked, slightly confused. He stared up at me with those eyes, the same look he used on me last night. I couldn’t help but scowl. “Don’t try the puppy eyes on me, Haz. _Really_?”

   “I’m sorry,” he said blinking, “I didn’t realise I was giving you any puppy eyes.” I scoffed and mussed up his hair.

   “You need to sleep.”

   “I _did_ sleep,” he protested, but I shook my head.

   “I mean actually sleep, instead of rolling around my apartment,” I corrected myself. He smirked and beamed proudly.

   “I’d rather roll around to be honest.” His words even seemed to exude an amount of swagger to them.

   “Rolling around every night is gonna turn you into a zombie,” I said and he chuckled, pressing his head against my shoulder.

   “Well at least I’ll be a happy, fulfilled zombie. With afterglow.” I laughed, nudging his head off me. I climbed off his lap and dumped the empty carton into the rubbish bin. I ended up sitting down in the chair adjacent to him.

   “So,” I sighed, settling in, “What was this thing you were talking about?” He took a moment to remember, before nodding quickly.

   “Yeah,” he mumbled, “So…I know you said you l- I know what you said, Bec. But do you still want…?”

   “Do I still want what?” I asked quietly. It almost made me laugh, how uncertain he was about it. I suppose he was just so used to having women throwing themselves relentlessly at him, that the thought of having to actually ask someone out what somewhat unfamiliar.

   His face was expressionless for a moment, before he interlocked his fingers and fiddled with them for a few more.

   “Bec Lowthorne,” he said finally, looking up at me, “Do…would you-? Urgh, OK, let me start again.”

   “You’re terrible at this,” I laughed, getting up again and taking his empty bowl to the sink. I washed it up and disposed it into the dishwasher, looking up to find his desperate expression still plastered on his face. “I thought you’d be a charmer, you know? Stallion in the sack and all that.”

   “I _am_ a stallion in the sack,” he huffed defensively, “And you know it. But…oh, come here.” I walked over, regarding him wearily, but he turned to me on his stool and I stood between his legs, feeling somewhat vaguely controlling over him.

   “Before I ask,” he said quietly, ducking his head before peering up at me through his eyelashes. Dumb fuck. Didn’t he know I couldn’t breathe, much less think, when he did that? “I need to clarify one thing. Last night…wasn’t a mistake?”

   I stared at him with a small smile, and shook my head.

   “And…and you’re pissed at me for the secret, but you’ve forgiven me?”

   The smile dropped and I shook my head. He looked considerably paler.

   “So you haven’t forgiven me?” I cocked my head thoughtfully, before reaching up.

   I cradled his face in my hands for a second, and I could see his eyes were a mix of being terrified of what I might do and hopeful I would be kind to him. I squinted at him for a moment, before sharply slapping him across the face. He braced the impact with shock, his head turned and his mouth hanging slightly open from being caught off guard.

   Then I gripped his face again and brought my lips crashing down on his. At first, he was caught surprised again and took a few moments to react, but as I felt his body relax against mine, and his hands move to wrap around my waist, I guessed he had his answer after all.


	26. Only Girl in the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS REALL CLOSE TO THE END GUISE D:
> 
> remember its part one of a series so PROMISE you'll read the sequel lah! :)  
> keep reviewing thanks xx

Present Day  
early April, 2013  
 

  
   “Well Harry’s been grinning his face all day, all night, all week, and it’s ridiculous because he won’t tell us why when we ask.”  
   I grinned to myself, holding the phone closer to my ear as I nodded to a customer, took their order and waltzed back into the kitchen, sending it down the line.  
   “Are you going to answer me, Bec?”  
   “No, Louis,” I sighed, but with an irrepressible smile. “Why don’t you ask him?” Someone chuckled in my ear and I felt lips press against my neck. I squirmed slightly.  
   “Are you not listening to me?” his chirpy voice demanded madly, “I just told you he just grins like a fool and shakes his head at us. I know I complained about him being a soppy idiot- but I didn’t say I wanted you to turn him into a dopey dumbass!”  
   “That’s great,” I laughed as my neck tickled slightly. “J- don’t!”  
   “What’s that?” Louis said distractedly.  
   “Wuh-nothing,” I said quickly, “What do you want me to do exactly, Lou? I can’t just tell him to stop being so happy.”  
   “Yes you can!” he cried stubbornly, “I haven’t seen Eleanor in two weeks cos she’s studying, and he’s prancing around our apartment looking like he’s a love sick puppy.”  
   “Can’t you be happy for him?”  
   “Don’t you mean ‘us’?” he corrected snappishly, “And he keeps disappearing randomly too. Drops out on us then shows up a while later.”  
   “Oh?”  
   “You wouldn’t happen to know where he goes?”   
   “No, Louis,” I answered patiently, squirming a little more and letting a giggle slip from my mouth. I stopped abruptly remembering that I didn’t giggle. I cleared my throat. “You enjoy him not being such a crab.”  
   “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered in to the receiving end of the phone, “He must be great making love to your back while you’re talking to me now.” I gagged and turned around.  
   “Are you at the café now?” I demanded, meeting eyes with Harry whose eyes were wide and expectant.  
   “No,” he sniggered, “Lucky guess.” I sighed, and turned momentarily away from Haz.  
   “You-”  
   “Oh you’re too easy to fool, Bec!” he laughed triumphantly, “Wait until the boys hear that you and Haz and rooting each other happily again!”  
   “Louis Tomlinson!” I yelped in the phone. “Don’t tell anyone! I swear…”  
   “Why not?” he demanded snidely, with a teasing tone in his voice, “Are you embarrassed?”  
   “I’m not embarrassed, but it’s embarrassing,” I shot back, before adding indignantly, “I keep your secrets for you!”  
   “This isn’t a secret, despite what you think,” he chortled, “Remember back in Sydney? Liam and Zayn knew you guys were fucking each other even before you did.” I scowled. “Are you scowling?”  
   “No,” I mumbled.  
   “You’re scowling!” he howled defiantly, “I’m hurt. Goodbye, Bec, and tell Harry to scram from that dank café you work at and get his ass back to work. He gets paid to do this.”  
   “Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, “Lid shut, Tommo.” The last thing I heard was a laugh as I hung up. I slipped my phone into my breast pocket, reached up and kissed Harry on the lips. His hands were already resting on my hips as I sat on the kitchen counter, and he stood between my legs.  
   “Mm,” he mumbled, pulling away after a bit, “You might want to take out that phone, it’s gonna get in my way.”  
   “You’re bad,” I laughed, kissing him again. I put my legs together and slipped off the bench.  
   “Where you think you’re going?” he demanded as service was called. I turned to him, with a small smile.  
   “It’s brunch time,” I replied, “We’re busy Harry, I don’t have time to be making out with you in the kitchen.” He looked sort of borderline upset for a moment. “Aw, don’t pout, Styles!”  
   “Don’t Styles me,” he mumbled, walking over and pressing my lips to my hair. “Now I have to go back to work.”  
   “Is that all I really am to you guys?” I demanded, throwing my hands in the air, “An out from work? You’re getting paid to visit me during my shifts!”  
   “And shouldn’t you be in class?” he shot back and that dipping hole in my stomach purged again.   
   “They got cut down a bit,” I replied breezily after a pause. I prodded him with my foot again. “Anyway, it’s time you get going, Louis says that they’re making the cut on a few of your songs.”  
   “What?” cried Harry, looking momentarily aghast. He stared at me for a few seconds, before a smirk formed on his face. “HA! Nice try shorty! But, I don’t write songs.”  
   “Get out!” I howled, a triumphant grin on his face. I dived out the door, scooping up the order and marching it across the café to the right table, where an old man was sitting. Just as I set it down, Haz brushed past me, tugging at the apron drawstring. “W-what are you…?”  
   He pulled me into a deep kiss, and I think a few people in the café turned to stare. I think I could hear the old man laughing. Well at least no one was cheering. Then shit would get awkward. After a while, I pushed him lightly away. He grinned happily at me, eyes bright.  
   “So the boys know now?”  
   “What?” I said quietly, “I thought only Louis knows.” He smirked and I wondered whether I should slap him for smirking in such an inappropriate time.    
   “Babe, if Louis knows, then everyone knows,” he sighed, pecking me on the cheek and heading out the door. “You’re meeting me today outside Mantle, alright? Three o’clock.”  
   “Whatever Haz,” I shot back and he made a face at me. “Don’t get run over!”  
   “I’ll try,” he replied, jogging out and blowing me a kiss through the glass. I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I cleared up the mess at the next table.  
   “Who was that?” said my boss shrewdly, coming through the door and approaching me. “Who was that?”  
   “No one,” I said immediately, “Just…a satisfied customer.”  
   “Can I have some of that too?” interrupted the old man with a chuckle, raising his spoon feebly and tapping the table with it.

***

   I promised myself that I would tell him yesterday.  
   Yesterday passed, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t admit things to him. Take Zayn for example; he didn’t even hear it from me, he just walked in at the wrong moment. So much for being honest.  
   In all seriousness, I would have to tell him eventually, especially since things had cleared up between us. He’d been perfect ever since. He had forgiven me for the shit I had done- with Lakyn, with Zayn, with the indecisiveness and the insult, he even understood that Niall and I hung out more than usual. How many lies had I kept that I still yet to unload on him?   
   One more; a pressing burden.  
   Leaving London.  
   As I strolled up to Mantle Apartments, I wondered how he would take it. More likely than not, he would be pissed off. But from then, we’d have to work something out. I mean, he was leaving for their upcoming tour regardless, so maybe it was for the best. Honestly, if we hadn’t made up in the first place, telling him would be a lot easier.  
   I squinted, confused by the large mob crowded around the entrance, clinging to their cameras and who knows what else. Realisation rushed over me only a few moments too late. I stood, frozen in petrification as they descended on me like vultures on their prey.  
   “BEC! BEC LOWTHORNE!”  
   I barely had time to react, but at once, the cameras were going off in a blaze of flashing lights and questions were fired at random. But beneath it all, I could hear his voice calling my name too. However, I was still rooted to the ground in the defense mechanism of freezing when confronted with a situation like this.   
   “Bec! Someone…” Someone grabbed onto my wrist and began to pull me, getting my feet to unwillingly move. It was someone I didn’t quite recognise, but was vaguely familiar. I trusted them, regardless.   
   “Rebecca! How do you feel about allegations of Harry Styles’ affair with married DJ Lucy Horobin?”  
   “What do you think of rumours connecting you and Harry Styles?”  
   “Are you dating Zayn Malik?”  
   “Is it true that you’re dropping out of university?”  
   “How do you feel about people referring to you as a groupie?”  
   All of them were ridiculous, but it was a lot like a zombie movie- all of them enclosing on me, threats looming, doom impending while they yelled out every thought that had ever run through my head. Suddenly, all the attention off me abruptly lifted, and they reverted their attention to a new target, leaving me a split second to regroup and let out a tiny dying noise from the back of my throat.  
   Harry jogged down the steps, guards holding back the press to let him pass. He was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt with his silver rosary bouncing around his neck, holding his jacket, and black sunglasses over his eyes.   
   “HARRY!”  
   They were yelling his name deafeningly, craning for pictures, but he kept his eyes fixed on the ground as they hurled accusations and gossip about the affair at him. He looked up as he approached me, and a small smile raised to those lips, even a little grudgingly.  
   “Sorry,” he mouthed, or at least I think he did, because I couldn’t hear a word anyway, until he pressed up against me and spoke right into my ear. “It’s all about the affair- let’s get out of here.” I nodded to let him know I had heard, and he took my hand quickly, guiding me out onto the sidewalk.  
   They followed us unrelentingly, but I could feel that slight pressure of his hand against mine which I was almost grateful for. Without it, who knows, maybe I would freeze up again. He leant close to my ear when they started distancing themselves a little.  
   “You alright? You did the little freeze thing again.” I scowled and he chuckled. “Don’t wanna hold that face too long, they might get a happy shot of it.” He glanced over my shoulder and waved a photographer who replied with a snap of camera flash in his eyes. He looked back at me.  
   “I can’t help it,” I replied, staring dead ahead, “Every time, it’s like a massive ambush and I don’t know how to react.”  
   “Oh well,” he said, swinging our hands back and forth distractedly, “At least you’ll be getting used to it soon.”  
   “I will, will I?” I said sharply and he smirked under the sunglasses. Stupid, sexy douchebag.  
   “You will,” he said confidently, “They’re starting to finally realise how much you mean to us.”  
   “Meaning…?” I prompted.  
   “They’re going to pounce on you and try suck the gossip blood out of you like mosquitoes.” I blanched. “HA! Worth it just to see your face.”  
   “You’re mean, you know that?” I demanded, unable to wipe the feeling of disgust off, “So where are we going?”  
   “I was thinking somewhere quiet, normal,” he said thoughtfully, “What about the park?”  
   “The park?” I repeated, “You have parks?”  
   “Funny,” he muttered, poking me in the shoulder. “There’s a nice quiet one with a playground.”  
   “Oh really,” I sighed, “This is your idea of a fun afternoon, spending it at a park with a playground watching little children?”  
   “You!” he cried, “Unbelievable, is that all I am to you? Just a creepy perv who’s willing to give up time for you?”  
   “Nah,” I said, shaking my head, “You’re a creepy perv who happens to be skilled and willing in bed, so that changes things up a little.” He smirked again, raising his hand and flagging down a cab. I glanced over my shoulder at the photographers who were still following us.   
   “They’re going to follow us in their cars too,” he sighed as he opened the door, allowing me to slide in first. He hopped in after me, closing the door and giving the driver the name of the park.  
   “Do you ever get used to it?” I asked curiously as he leant back and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I leant my head against his chest, finally able to relax, not in front of the cameras. We were practically lying down in the back of the cab, and the driver didn’t give a crap. “All the attention and the flashing lights? Don’t- don’t you ever just get bored?”  
   “Mm,” he mumbled, letting out a heavy breath, and snuggling down into the seat, “Yeah, after a bit it does get sort of tedious. I mean, I’ve always done something wrong…”  
   “In all fairness,” I added quietly, my eyes fixed downwards and poking his thigh, “You did sleep with a married woman, you skank.” He chuckled, playing with my hair absent mindedly. I wondered why he’d ever want to play with boring straight hair like mine, when he could just reach up and fiddle with his own.  
   “Yeah,” he sighed, “But then you know, sometimes people can come along and-” I waited as he fell silent, until I craned my neck around and looked up at him.   
   “And?”  
   “Change things,” he finished, staring at me. I pressed my lips together, and he responded by poking my dimple. “Dimple buddy.” I grinned immediately at the memory, but irked by something else. I reached up and plucked the sunglasses off. There. Now I could see those eyes.  
   “Who wears sunglasses in cars?” I asked, folding them into my shirt.   
   “Me,” he huffed. “Because I’m a diva, and I can wear sunglasses at night too.” I rolled my eyes as he chuckled and pressed his lips to my head.  
   “So why the park?” I asked. “Another sentimental reason, another little private hide-out?”  
   “Not really,” he shrugged, “Just a standard park. Nothing special, it’s not even got the really nice, new play equipment. It’s just…boring, you know. A little sad. And great!”  
    “Why would you want to go to a boring playground?” I laughed, sitting up, “That completely defeats the purpose of it.”  
   “Ah,” he shrugged, messing his hair up with his hands, “I dunno, Bec. I need a little boring. And I need you.” For a second, I believed him.   
   “You calling me boring Stylie?” I demanded and he groaned, as the cab pulled up. I opened up the door and climbed out, him after me. The park was small, but green and fresh, similar to the one I remember walking with Liam when I had first seen the boys in London.  
      The day with biting, but by the clouds and the feeling in the air, I expected it to rain later. Oh well. Spring has turned and it was raining in London. He took my hand again, looking around with those sunglass-less eyes. Taking my hand gentler than last time, he guided me across to the park where we walked along the pathway.  
   The playground rested at the bottom of the sloping hill. I hesitated at the top of it.  
   “What?” he said distractedly, squinting up at me. I squinted back down at him, before saying carefully,  
   “Did you have an afternoon nap?” He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, before looking at me again.  
   “Sorry?”  
   “Did you sleep before you came here, Haz? You’re tired as fuck.”  
   “Yeah, I am,” he sighed, walking back up level to me. In a flash, he reached over to my shirt, and whipped the sunglasses back, pushing them on. He let out an exaggerated sigh and grinned broadly. “There. All better.”  
   “Wearing sunglasses on a not even sunny day makes it better?” I asked disbelievingly.  
   “Hey,” he said, sounding mockingly offended, “I would have you know that cloudy days actually produce on average more UV rays than cloudless ones. Your probably getting a terrible sunburn right now while I’ve got these babies to protect me.”  
   “Yeah, but are those UV rays reflected down on us, are they shot back up into the sky?” I shot back, before realising how dumb I sounded. He didn’t care, merely laughed and wrapped his arms around me; squeezing me softly like I was a CareBear. Feeling the need to reinstate my pride, I added, “And I don’t burn. I tan.”  
   “Everyone burns.”  
   “Oh, deep,” I said sarcastically, as he pulled away and dragged me down the hill towards the playground. “You gonna tweet that, huh? What about an instagram photo of my sunburnt face from a damaging cloudy day in London?”  
   “Sarcastic bitch,” he mumbled, as we approached the playground. There were only a few little kids with their mothers, and the swings were empty so I led him over there. I lifted my fingers to my lips and made an angry noise.  
   “Shh! No cussing!” I said indignantly, pointing to the children, “Have you no consideration for the children here?”  
    He guffawed at me, and I seized the opportunity to sprint forward and call dibs on the regular swing. Unfortunately for him, he had to sit in the baby one, which I knew full well squeezed a teenage girl’s ass quite painfully, I could only imagine what it would do to his. He squirmed around in it, shooting me a piteous look, and end up squatting in it, looking like sort of bullfrog.  
   At that point, I was still too busy laughing at him to notice the photographers were back again. The smile dropping off my face and the instant change in expression must have been obvious, because he whipped around, nearly tumbling off the swing.  
   “Relax, Bec,” he sighed, “They just want a picture.” He settled back down in the baby swing as I rocked distractedly back and forth on mine.  
   “How many pictures do they need? They don’t even have a story,” I commented, but he shrugged.  
   “Oh they have a story,” he said bitingly, “You and I out on a nice date. Post-affair.” I glanced at him briefly. “Don’t look so alarmed Bec, it’s not a date.”  
   “Good,” I muttered, turning my head consciously away from the cameras.  
   “I mean, just because I’m gonna invite you back to mine after this and root you, not it’s not a date,” he said casually. I shoved him and he tottered in his tiny swing, while laughing. “You know what I like about you?”  
   “Oh please, keep me guessing,” I mumbled sarcastically.  
   “No, you guess then.”  
   “My sunny personality?” I tried feebly, “Model cheekbones? Sexual stamina? Don’t laugh- I don’t know Haz! I’m not into myself.”  
   “That’s right,” he said, “I’m into you, nicely observed. It’s that you’re so easy to tease.”  
   “Oh, so nothing for the personality?” I said in mock disappointment. He shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do about it?’ It occurred to me that this would just be as if I were still back home with my friends, hanging out at the park on weekends, joking around and not taking anything seriously.   
   Except it was Harry and I, not causing any trouble, but attracting quite a lot of attention. Even at nineteen, I wondered how much normality he missed from his last teenage years.  
   “Hey,” he said lightly, “I just remembered something I used to do when I was little on the swings.”  
   “Jump off right before it stopped?” I said dismissively, “Been there, done that. I flew like a motherfucker.” His hand slapped over my mouth as a few of the little kids pranced by.  
   “Who’s cussing now?” he demanded hysterically, and I spat his hand off. “And what are you, the swing king?” I laughed.  
   “No, I was the bloody swing master,” I shot back, “I ruled the swings- no one messed with me. Domination.”  
   “Oh that I can picture,” he smirked, “You know, a little seven year old Bec Lowthorne, future dictator.”  
   “In the making,” I added, gliding over and kicking him in the knee. “They were always the best part of the playground.  
   “Mm, agreed,” he said, nodding as he dangled on the edge of his ass-squeezing swing. “I was just thinking of what you said the other day, at Hackney Downs.”  
   “What did I say?” I asked, kicking at the mulch on the ground distractedly.  
   “You wanted to fly like a bird,” he chortled, “Then you started making bird noises.”  
   “Hey, no judgment!” I protested, “You promised that when you told me about confessions!”  
   “Stop calling them confessions,” he said impatiently, “I repeat, it’s not a church.”  
   “I know it’s not a church!” I refuted shortly. “That’s not the point, you said you wouldn’t laugh at me. That means I can laugh at you for straightening your hair, dumbfuck!”  
   “You already did,” he pointed out evenly, and I sat there, my line of thought abruptly taken away. He kicked some mulch up with his shoe and it sprayed onto my leg.  
   “Argh!”  
   “Sorry!” he laughed, getting up apologetically, but I reached down, scooping up a handful and threw it at his face, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best idea. Luckily, he turned his head and most of it got caught in those entrapping curls.  
   “Ha! That’s sorry for you,” I retorted bitterly. He stopped, before ambushing me with those tickling hands. I yelped out in protest, only to end with me squirming desperately.   
   “You wanna hear my suggestion or not?” he asked, sticking his tongue out as I continued to struggle like a worm in his grip.  
   “Y-yes,” I gasped, losing my breath, “Alright! N- Harry! I…” He let go, and plopped down in the mulch in front of me, slightly out of breath.  
   “Alright,” he said, “I used to this thing when I was young. You just swing normally, but you close your eyes. It feels like you’re flying. I felt like a bird.”  
   “Like a bird?” I snorted, but he waved his hand at me.  
   “You go on, have a go.” I swung back and forth, taking a while to get the momentum going. He scrambled out of my way as soon as he realised I’d probably kick him in the face soon. When I was high enough, he started flapping his arms around madly and making bird noises.  
   “Close your eyes!” At the very top of the swing, I shut my eyes and lost myself. The feeling left me breathless- like everything was suddenly sharper. The unexpected jerk of the swing back and forth, the sense of flying was undeniable. I was pulled in, drawn by it.  
   After a few endless minutes, I opened my eyes and looked down to see him sitting in the baby swing, grinning up at me.  
   “You look happier doing that when you do when you’re asleep.” I frowned at him as I dug my feet into the mulch to slow me down. “You look so troubled and worried when you’re asleep.”  
   “You watch me when I sleep?” He closed his mouth tightly and looked a little sheepish, ruffling his hair up distractedly.  
   “How can I not?” he mumbled with a tiny smile, looking back up at me, or around me at least, because I couldn’t quite see his eyes through those glasses. “You look a little pissed off too. It’s like a permanent thing with you, isn’t it?”  
   I scowled at him and he chuckled.  
   “Well I would tell you how you look when you sleep, but I can’t seeing as I’ve never watch you sleep before,” I mumbled, kicking his white converses with my own shoes. They scuffled a bit over each other, but I kneed him and he buckled over and lost. “I miss spending days like this, you know?”  
   “What, just doing nothing at all?”  
   “Yeah,” I sighed. “I used to do it all the time back home. Yeah, then I got here and everything changed.”  
   “For the better?” he said in a hopeful voice. I chortled and grinned.  
   “Of course.” It was worth it just to see the glint in his eyes.  
   “Truly though,” he said eventually, “I have to ask you something. It’s about Gem, alright?”  
   “Your sister?” I said in surprise, my mind abruptly torn away from the pressing issue. “Gemma? What about her?”  
   “She’s coming to London,” he said, looking up, “She’s trying to apply for a job here, and I won’t be around for much longer you know with tour. I just thought maybe you could help her out?”  
   I blinked. What could I say? For one, I didn’t expect Gemma to particularly like me especially since what had happened in Holmes Chapel, or in the light of recent scandals and events. What? And yes. I wasn’t going to be in London for much longer either. I was leaving, who was I kidding?  
   “Bec?” he said carefully, “I- I know you guys didn’t get along great last time. I just thought maybe you could show her around at least-”  
   “Harry,” I blurted, meeting his eye, “I can’t. I just…can’t.” My heart was racing faster than Liam Payne sprinting. He grimaced.  
   “Come on, babe,” he simpered, “It’s nothing, I swear. Even just a one day thing.”  
   “N-no, I actually cannot do it,” I said, digging my heel into the mulch. “Be…because I won’t be here.” He blinked as I let out a deep breath. I had said it, hadn’t I?  
   “What do you mean you won’t be here?” he said. “Are you going on exchange or something?” The logical thing to do here was to save my skin and go with his thoughts, but I was pulled in the direction of the truth.  
   “No,” I sighed, “No, Harry I’m not going to be in the country anymore.”  
   “Where are you going?” I didn’t reply at first, lowering my eyes and I could feel the discern growing in his wariness. “Bec?”  
   “Don’t worry,” I mumbled, but he got up, and took my hand in his. I immediately thought of the cameras, as I gazed up at him, momentarily dazed by the sunlight shining from behind him.  
   “What’s going on?” he demanded, with a frown, “Something’s wrong.”  
   “Nothing’s wrong.”  
   “Something’s clearly wrong and you’re not telling me!” he said sharply, before pulling off his douche-y glasses and squinting at me. “I thought we promised we’d be honest with each other.”  
   “I know,” I moaned quietly, “But…”  
   “But I’m expected to tell you about a year-passed affair but you’re not going to tell me about you leaving?” he demanded, before pausing as he heard his own words. I could see realisation slowly spreading across his face, mixed with horror. “No…”  
   “My scholarship’s been revoked,” I blurted, pulling my hand out of his. “I failed my semesters and the university’s revoked my scholarship. I- there’s no point staying in London anymore, I’m leaving in June-” He was turning away slowly, trying to process what I was saying.  
   “June?” he interrupted, turning back to me quickly, “That’s after we leave.”  
   “I know,” I mumbled meekly, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I…I couldn’t find the right time.”  
   “What about anytime?” he said quietly, trying to keep the accusation and anger out of his voice, probably to save me from the humiliation of the press. Always looking out for me. “Bec, you’re not leaving.”  
   “Harry,” I said, crossing my legs over each other, “I’m going back home.”  
   “Home?”  
   “Sydney.”  
   “That’s not possible,” he said hastily, “You don’t need to go to university, you can stay…”  
   “And do what?” I said, defeated, “I can’t even get a proper job apart from my part time at the café, which is nothing. There’s no point. I have to go home.” He stared at me.  
   “You failed your semesters?” I nodded slowly.  
   “I-I’m sorry, Haz,” I said quietly, looking down, but I was taken aback as he turned on his heel and stormed off. I looked back up, feeling shocked at first, then slightly angry. He wasn’t getting to walk away this time. I got up shakily and ran after him, perfectly aware of the press.   
   But he was walking fast, with a vague sense of determination.  
   “Harry! Harry, stop!”  
   Great article that’s going to come along with my first debut picture with him in the papers tomorrow.  
   “HARRY!” I stopped, suddenly aware of a few approaching photographers. He glanced back at me, noting my abrupt silence, merely raised an eyebrow, before disappearing again. Our not-date was going fantastically.

***

   I sulked back up to my apartment and opened to door, to find Tian making herself a sandwich for afternoon. She looked surprised.  
   “Oh. Hi, you,” she said, putting the sandwich into the microwave, “I thought you were going out?” I sighed, trudging over and sitting down.   
   “I did.”  
   “What’s up?”  
   “Harry’s upset with me,” I mumbled, resting my head in my arms on the table. “Why am I such an idiot?”  
   “What did you do this time?” she asked warily, taking her sandwich out of microwave and sitting down. She took a timid nibble out of it and I guessed she wouldn’t even finish it.  
   “I finally told him about me leaving.”  
   “You didn’t tell him?” she said incredulously, “No wonder he’s upset, Bec! I just assumed last time he stayed that it was like a final fling thing before you left.”  
   “No,” I moaned, hitting my head repeatedly on the table, “No. That was just…a thing between us.”  
   “Oh,” she said blankly, “So you’re sleeping with him, but you just told him you’re leaving after you sorted your issues out?”  
   “Something like that.”  
   “This was the guy who told you he loved you?” she chuckled, taking another tiny bite of her sandwich. “Introduce me, Bec, we’d be married tomorrow.” I made a noise that sounding like a dying whale.  
   “How did he take it?”  
   “How did you think he took it?” I grumbled impatiently, forcing myself to sit up. “He was angry, and he just walked on me. Not to mention, the press were everywhere so they probably got it all on their camera rolls.”  
   “Aw,” said Tian sympathetically, putting her sandwich down, apparently full. She got up, leaving it unguarded, and walked around to the balcony. Seizing the opportunity, I snatched the sandwich and gobbled half of it down. Her back to me, staring out on the campus, she added, “At least you’ll be on the news.”  
   “I don’t want to be on the news,” I spat, taking another vicious bite. There was a brief pause.  
   “Did he say where he was going?” she asked. I shrugged.   
   “Nope.” The sandwich was actually quite nice, but it could do with more cheese. “Why?”  
   “Oh nothing,” said Tian, turning away from the balcony, “Just that’s he sprinting across campus towards admin.” I nearly choked on her pretty little sandwich.  
   ”What?” I cried, jumping up and tearing to the balcony, still clutching the sandwich. Yes, it was him. I could recognise the bounce of his curly hair anywhere, as he stormed across the green, still wearing his black jeans and t-shirt with his converse. Stupid! Stupid! What was he doing? I just about spat out the sandwich. “HARRY!”  
   “There’s no p-”  
   “HARRY!” I bellowed, leaning as far over the balcony as I could without losing balance and plummeting to my inevitable death below. “YOU STUPID…” The most attention I got was from a few people craning their necks up, but not from him.  
   Desperate, my thoughts racing, I tore back inside and sprinted to the other side of the apartment, grabbing my Raybans and hopping around in them before colliding into the front door. I nearly fell over, put I pushed myself off, wrenched it open and hobbled down the cement stairs, hoping I could catch him before he got to admin.  
   By the time I hit the ground floor and tore across towards the green, I couldn’t even see him anymore. I doubled over, out of breath, still holding the sandwich. Once I regained my breath, I got up and limped towards the admin centre.  
   I caught sight of James Logan sprawled on the field with a new girl. I fought the urge to hurl obscenities at him. He glanced at me, before looking away distractedly. Oh he knew it. Taking time to glare, I marched past him. By the time I made it to the admin building, I couldn’t see him anywhere. Miserable, I sat down on the stairs, and ate my sandwich, waiting for him to come out.  
   Sometime later, he emerged and I jumped up.  
   “What the actual f-!”  
   “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, walking up, wrapping one arm around my neck and kissing me deeply. Well OK. He eventually pulled away and I replied with a weak smile. “I had to do something.” The smile dropped.  
   “What did you do?” I asked with a frown. He looked around the campus, before offering me his hand.  
   “I’m sorry for leaving with you with the press,” he said flatly, “That was cruel.”  
   “It’s OK,” I said quietly, taking his hand. “They didn’t chase me, I think they got sick of me.”  
   “Impossible,” he said with a cheeky grin, slipping his sunglasses back on, “I know I’ll never get sick of you.”  
   “I have to apologise too,” I said, stopping him. “I know we said we’d be honest, and I’ve had countless opportunities to say something, but I didn’t. It was only because I was scared that maybe admitting it would make it happen faster.”  
   “Aw, Bec,” he mumbled, leaning over and kissing my forehead, “I promise you, you’re not going anywhere.” I frowned at him, slightly confused.  
   “What you talking about?” He raised his eyebrows at me.  
   “Didn’t you know you could make scholarship appeals?” he demanded, scuffing my hair up irritably. “Gosh, it’s like you’ve never been to college and failed your semesters.” I looked at him blankly, and he pulled something out of his low hanging pants. He handed it to me.   
   “Here, a scholarship appeal. They review it, and if they validate it, you can re-sit your exams and have another shot.”  
   I was speechless. What if I hadn’t told him, returned home only to realise that I could still be in school? I jumped on him, latching my arms around him and laughing in disbelief.  
   “Oh god,” I gasped, clinging tighter to him, “Oh god Haz…I thought I was going home…”  
   “You’re not going anywhere,” he repeated quietly, loosening my arms gently off him, enough to lean in and kiss me. Before he could, I held my finger to his lips, stopping him, before reaching up and taking his sunglasses off. Then I kissed him. “Nowhere.” I smiled at him as he brushed hair from my eyes.  
   “Thank you,” I whispered, because in any situation, it was the right thing to say. “God, thank you.”  
   “It’s alright,” he mumbled bashfully. “I mean, I read about it before going to college. Scholarship appeals if a student fails their semesters.”  
   “Weren’t you going to study law?”   
   “Something useless.”  
   “Oh thanks,” I huffed, pulling away and he looked amused. “So when I become a partner or a solicitor, you can kiss my rich ass, Harry Styles.”  
   “I’ll enjoy that,” he smirked, “So now you’re staying. They’ll have to validate the appeal, you’re a model student.”   
   “Not exactly, Haz. I’ve been wagging off classes.”  
   “No, I mean a model student as in you could be a model.” I shook my head, smacking his chest.  
   “Fuck off!” I wailed, “Too much sarcasm, it’s killing me. Let’s get out of here, please.”  
   “Back to mine?”  
   “I’m not sure,” I said, hanging back warily, “After what you said in the park…”  
   “About rooting you?” he said with that stupid attractive lopsided grin. “Bec, take it as a compliment.”  
   “Yeah, righteous,” I muttered to myself, and he tugged me along.


	27. My Life Would Suck Without You

_Present Day  
mid-April, 2013_

 

  
  
   He was swimming up and down the pool, each movement perfectly executed. I could see his perfectly toned arms cutting through the water like a knife. Every part of his body seemed fitter now- his limbs weren’t so much slender as they were starting to gain muscle, and his stomach was as per usual, flat and starting to gain edge.

   Yeah, it felt sort of weird that I’d be perving on him- but the satisfaction made up for the guilt. Eventually he bobbed his head above water on the other end of the pool, looking slightly out of breath. He flicked his blonde hair out of his face, running his hands through it deftly.

   “Hey Bec,” he said, sounding vaguely surprised to see me there.

   “’ello Niall,” I grinned, getting up and wandering over to the edge of the water. He waded over to meet me as I sat down on the ledge, letting my ankles dip into the lukewarm pool. He swum up to me and propped his arms beside me. Oh lord, put your arms down. Put them underwater or something, so at least I can’t see them. Don’t smile at me like that, pull your hair over your eyes. Why didn’t I just drown him and make my life easier?

   God, he looked fit as. “So what, you come here to show your hot bod off to the older ladies of level seven?”

   He snickered.

   “So what if I do?” he shot back in his adorable accent which always irritably caught me off guard. He shot me a cheeky grin, before giving me a half-serious look. “And do you come here to check me out while I do?”

   “Smart kid like you,” I smirked, patting his wet hair, “I know you’d figure me out.” He smirked back, before shaking his head from side to side, spraying me with excess water. With a half-hearted shriek, I held my hands up to stop them from reaching me, to no avail as usual.

   “How are ya?”

   “Well,” I said lightly, moving my legs back and forth in the water, “I’m better now, as you can see.”

   “It’s noticeable,” he remarked, “You seem…happier now. You know, screwing around with Harry and all that.”

    I didn’t blush, but I bit my lip hesitantly. To be honest, we had been screwing around for a while, but over the last few weeks, we got a little frustrated with each other. Somewhere along that line, the fooling around had stopped.

   “…or not?” he said, with a raised eyebrow. I shook shrugged my shoulders at him. Panting, he leant back and ran his hand through his hair again. Distractedly, I couldn’t help but glance down at his stomach, half concealed in the water. Urgh. I needed to get laid.

   I tore my eyes away before he took notice of me gaping at his admirable shape, and instead fixed them on the water.

   “Niall?”

   “Yeah babe?” he replied, glancing up at me with those eyes which put the ocean to shame. “Wassa matter?” I bit my lip again.

   “Can you tell me something?” I asked carefully and he nodded in reply. “What would you honestly think if…oh, I don’t know, Harry and I went out?” He blinked at me in confusion.

   “Haven’t you guys gone out before?” I shook my head firmly. At least, I don’t think we had. “Jeez, I thought all that stuff actually meant you two were together.”

   “Is that everyone thinks?” I said in alarm, gripping his slippery shoulder.

   “Don’t worry about it,” he said casually, turning over so he could look at me, with his arms still resting next to me, looking incriminatingly good. “So what, you want to date him now?”

   I kicked my legs back and forth a little more vicious than I intended, sending water flying.

   “I don’t even know.” That was the bitter truth. I just didn’t know what I wanted anymore. After Haz and I had made up, I was convinced that I knew what I wanted. But somehow, the satisfaction I used to have just by sleeping with him had evaporated. Suddenly, bedding him wasn’t enough. And now here I was, trying to find what would be.

   “In my honest opinion,” he sighed, staring at me intently. He looked thoughtful for a few moments before speaking carefully. “I don’t think…he’s not good for you.” I stared back at him, my thoughts somehow not connecting to my head and to my mouth. I sort of just gaped at him for a while, which must have alarmed him a little. “B-Bec?”

   “What do you mean?” I demanded, and he looked sheepish but fixated on getting his point across.

   “I love Haz,” he said evenly, finally moving and taking his arms off the pool edge. He waded out into the middle of the empty pool, treading water slowly. “I really love him.”

   “So what, _you_ want to go out with him?” I asked wearily and he rolled his eyes, swimming back up to me again.

   “I’ve known him for three years,” he continued, taking hold of my feet underwater and swinging them gently, “He’s a great guy. But…”

   “But?”

   “I know you too,” he sighed, stopping with my feet. “I’ve only known you for a year, but…it’s enough to wrap my head around you. And honestly, I don’t think he’s right for you.” Oh great, well this was just about doing my head in. Niall thought that Haz wasn’t _right_ for me?

   “How?”

   “Harry’s crazy,” he replied easily, “Amazing, but crazy. Changing his mind all the time. If he wants something then damn, he’s going to get it. Not to mention, he puts the man in manipulate. Other than that, he’d be a fantastic boyfriend.” I was laughing, mostly because sitting there and staring at him would make it weird.

   “Other than that,” I chortled, shaking my head and jabbing his chest with my big toe underwater. “Nice analysis, Dr. Horan. What about _me_?”

   “You’re _you_ ,” he said teasingly, sinking a little so only his sculpted shoulders rested above water. He took hold of my feet again, this time trailing his hands up around my ankles. “Delicate like a flower.”

   “Delicate!” I laughed, kicking water in his face.

   “No one toys with you,” he continued, spluttering water out of his face, “Or you’ll chop their face off. Like a bloodthirsty warrior.”

   “That’s better,” I said smugly, smiling down at him.

   “You’re probably part Irish too, somewhere in your blood line.”

   “Oh? And why’s that?”

   “You drink like a middle aged man with a beer gut,” he smirked, “And when you do, you also cuss like a sailor.”

   “Fuck you!” I snapped and he laughed, his slippery hands rubbing my ankles woefully.

   “And I have one more analysis,” he said eventually with a teasing tone. I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled. “Hey, come on. I promise it’s good.”

   “Fine,” I gave in, “One more.” He hoisted himself up slightly, his hands running up with touch like silk my calves towards my knees and closer to my shorts.

   “You’re a great swimmer.” I blinked at him in momentary confusion, but he was on to me before I could realise what he could possibly mean.

   “Don’t you d-” I began to warn, but his grip was strong as he leaned over, and tossed me over his shoulder. In horror, I tried to find grip on something only to remember he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He waded through the water, with me still over his shoulder while I cried obscenities at him.

   “Put me down!” He stopped in the middle of the pool, laughing, one hand resting on my ass which lay over his shoulder. “Ponce!”

   “You really want me to put you down?” he asked, glancing at me over his shoulder. “In the _water_?”

   “Wuh- no!” I protested, slapping his back seeing as that was all I could reach. “ _Niall_ , please don’t…”

   “Don’t what?”

   “Don’t fucking drop me!” I howled, scrabbling at his back again. “I’ll- I’ll…” There were no threats, because mostly I couldn’t think of something I could possibly give him or threaten him with to not drop me in the water. Which was why he did.

   His grip slipped out from under me and I fell gracefully into the water with a messy splash. For a moment, I could feel my ears pop and the cold sluggish eternity engulf me. I kicked my legs, begging them to work properly, as I pushed myself back up to the surface, feeling the oxygen restrict in my lungs.

   I emerged, spluttering water, my dark hair plastered to my face.

   The first sound my ears heard was his laughter. I pulled the hair out of my eyes and I scowled at him, standing there only submerged up to his waist in water, laughing with that breathtaking smile. By the time I had regained my balance, I was already attacking him back.

   “I told you not to _drop_ me, prick!” I yelled, flinging water at him, which was feeble in comparison to the trauma he had just caused me. He just continued to laugh.

   “I-you slipped!” he came up with weakly. I launched myself at him, slapping him across the cheek. Somehow being wet lessened the overall impact of the gesture.

   “I slipped my _ass_!” I snapped, as he gently picked me up, holding me under my thighs so my legs locked around him. My arms fastened around his neck and I clung there, pressing my head against his neck.

   “What are you doing?” he laughed quietly, gliding gently around in the water, but I clung to him like I was fastened with several straps.

   “Trying to strangle you to death,” I mumbled, not looking up. He chuckled, and that too familiar feeling of breathlessness met me. How crazy that after this time I spent with him, he could take my breath away with the tiniest little things.

   “Hey,” he said quietly, one arm leaving my hips and tangling itself in my mangle of hair. “You’re not upset about what I said right?”

   “What?” I said, a little confused but refusing to take my head off his shoulder. Just lying against him like this as he moved gently through the water was admittedly nice.

   “About you and Haz not being right for each other,” he replied. “I mean if you really want, then go ahead and date him. He’s still a great guy.”

   “No,” I said eventually, with a sigh, “I’d rather date you.”

   “Sorry?” Oh dear. I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. I took a deep breath.

   “I’d rather date you.”

   “Me?” he said in surprise and I forced myself to raise my head and look at him. “But…”

   “Don’t sweat it,” I laughed lightly, brushing his sopping hair from his blue eyes. I had absolutely _no_ idea what I was doing. “I just remember when I dated you, that it was…” He raised his eyebrows expectantly, clearly not going to help me finish the sentence.

   “Was what, Bec?” he said, voice wavering in wariness.

   “Good,” I gulped, sliding off him. He let me easily. “My first boyfriend was pretty terrible. You were my second.”

   “Yeah,” he said, cocking his head, “But I was your first.” I couldn’t even meet his eye. My wet clothes felt cold and suffocating all of a sudden.

   “Y-yeah you were,” I muttered, turning away.

   “Bec,” he began carefully and I turned to face him. How much I wanted him to say the words. How much I realised, at that moment, that I knew all along what I had wanted. Sex with Harry- regardless if it was hot or not, which it inexplicably always was, wasn’t what I wanted. Maybe not even having him as mine.

   It was the same thing over and over again, relapsing back into Niall before steeling myself and telling myself I couldn’t have him, because of what I’d already done to him. It explained why I watched out for him. I had hurt him enough for a lifetime, and I wasn’t going to let anyone do the same thing I had done to him.

   I had met him, in the soppy Sydney rain, when the two of us seemed like two strangers who couldn’t be any more different. He was just some blonde haired teenager I let in. I was just another girl he took a passing fancy to on tour. I had always seen it as I had let him into my house, when really, I let him into my life.

   That impulsive kiss on my couch that tasted like rain and chicken had grabbed the ends of my issues, and falling for him had tugged at them. Dangerously enough, being near here him in London had caused them to unravel like shedding skin.

   No, I didn’t want meaningless sex. Maybe, I didn’t even want Harry Styles, because inevitably I don’t think there was one moment that underneath the denial, the fake smiles and laughs, and the hurt that I had ever stopped loving Niall Horan. I wanted _him_.

   And that sucked pretty bad.

   “What is it?” I demanded, because I didn’t even want to look at him anymore. I didn’t know whether it would set me off or not; anger, confusion, pain.

   “Will you look at me?”

   No, I bloody wouldn’t.

   “What do you want from me?”

   “Well, you could start by looking at me.”

   “Ju- forget it!” I snarled, trying to storm away which proved impossible in water. “I’m not wasting my time.”

   “So I’m a waste of _time_ now?” he asked disbelievingly. “Bec, don’t run away again.”

   “I’m not running away!”

   “Don’t be stubborn! Look, I’m not in the mood to bloody chase after you,” he scowled and I batted him away.

   “You’re _never_ in a mood to chase after me, are you?” I snapped. Bloody passive aggressive. “G- you…urgh!” For once, I wanted him to _fight_ me.

   Maybe I couldn’t read his mind, but his face was struggling to remain clear. I could tell by his expression, that he wanted to desperately tell me. I wanted him, fair enough. Did he want me? If he did, he didn’t say a word. Because he was _weak._ And the very thought of the unsaid things between us made me feel empty.

   In fact, we were arguing over an issue neither of us had even mentioned out loud. That I realised abruptly, I wanted him. And he was too hopeless and lost to make up his mind, or perhaps he had and he was too gutless to tell me what he wanted too.

   “Bec, please,” he begged, “Talk to me. I don’t want tension between us.”

   “Tension!” I laughed, throwing my hands up and sending water flying too. “Niall, ever since I got to London, that’s all that’s ever been with us! Yeah, I’ve put up with it for half a year through all this drama with Harry and everything, I’ve been having to deal with- with _this_ on the side!”

   “This?” he spat, “You mean _me_? Well why do you deal with me, Bec? Because if you really didn’t want to, then you wouldn’t. You don’t want Harry, do you? That’s why you haven’t agreed to go out with him yet.” My jaw hung loosely open.

   “You-”

   “Yeah,” he said warily, his lips twitching. “I heard you guys the other day. He asked you out two weeks ago, I’m impressed. What lie have you been keeping him going on?”

   “I’m not lying to him,” I snapped bitterly, and he laughed cruelly.

   “Oh, my bad,” he sneered, “I forgot the two of you have an honestly policy going. How that’s working out for you? How did he take it, you know, that you don’t actually want to go out with him, but you’re satisfied to just to be fucking him around at your will?”

   “I’m not!” I yelled, “I’m not fucking satisfied with _anything_!”

   “Of course you’re not!” he cried, “You’re never happy, no matter what you pretend to say, Bec! You can be saying you love me one minute, and then sleeping around behind my back- _literally_ the next!”

   “Oh I _knew_ this was going to come up!” I shouted, pointing at him accusingly. “You were _always_ going to use it against me, Niall. Don’t lecture me about telling the truth when you pretend that you’re over it, but at the first chance you have you jump to throw in my face!”

   How fast things could spin out of control. I couldn’t even breathe properly, I was so beyond angry.

   “I’m over it!” he spat furiously, “I am! But you can’t expect me not to think of that when I see you- when I see you with _him_.”

   “So what?” I demanded rashly, “Should I just never talk to Harry again because of what you might think? Should I pretend like I don’t care when _you_ don’t care?”

   “I care!” he shot back, “Goddammit, when did you even _think_ I didn’t care about you?”

   “Not about me!” I yelled, wading towards the pool edge desperately. “Personally, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t give an _arse_ about me, Niall Horan!”

   “Then what am I supposed to care about?” he demanded incredulously. I didn’t even bother to answer. He was supposed to care about who was with. Harry did. Huh. Wasn’t I a fucking selfish bitch? Maybe I expected too much of him. “You’re a fucking coward Bec, look at me.”

   “Who are you calling a coward, prick?” I yelled, turning to him and effectively doing exactly what he had asked me. I was more frustrated that I couldn’t storm around in the water. “I’m not the coward who refused to even _look_ at me when I got here!”

   “I bloody looked at you alright?” he said indignantly, “I looked at you and it sucked!”

   “I sucked?”

   “Looking at you sucked!” he wailed, “Because it hurt to be near you, because I still loved you like you were mine. But you fucking _weren’t_.” I stared wordlessly at him for a few moments.

   “You what?”

   “I still loved you,” he repeated, running his hand through his hair, “Damn, I was _stupid_. But I had to-to stand back all this time and watch as Harry had his way with you. I thought it’d be a passing phase. But you’re _you_ so of course it wasn’t.”

   I snapped into defense mode.

   “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

   “It means,” he said raising his voice, “That I’m a fucking loser. I should have chased you Bec. I shouldn’t have let you slip by me, and I should have held on. All those times… I should have _kissed_ you. They drive me insane.”

   “You shouldn’t have wanted to,” I shot back, because it was the only weak thing I could think to say. “Because I walked all over you.”

   “Make up your fucking mind!” he snarled, “Do you _want_ me to care, or do you want me not to? Do you want me to curl back in my defensive little shell and play the good friend, or do you want me to be this…this _wreck_ that I am when I’m alone?”

   “I…” I trailed off, feeling unexpected tears welling in my eyes. Fucking stupid. Don’t fucking cry. I tried to hide it, but I was already choking up. Oh, well done. “I don’t know, Niall. I don’t bloody know.”

   He was taking heavy breaths, watching me carefully.

   “At least this’ll be out the way soon,” he said bitterly and I looked at him in alarm. “We’re leaving next week, so I can just…sort out my head, alright? And you-you do that too.” He stared at me for a few more moments, but turning and wading away.

   I could feel all my energy ebbing from me, leaving me exhausted and weak, but I couldn’t let it go.

   “I know what I want.” He stopped and turned to look at me.

   “Well?”

   There stood Niall Horan. The first boy I loved, who drove me crazy. He wasn’t perfect, in fact he was far from it. I could hear him singing Lego House to me for the first time, back when I didn’t even know he was a singer. Making bad jokes, playing on and off. Whispering into my ear at night. Snoring, lying in bed to the early afternoon, occasionally letting him play with my hair, insisting he was just curious how it felt. Laughing. Kissing him in the rain.

   “I want,” I swallowed. My mouth tasted like chlorine and blood. “I want to know…how you can turn from hot to cold so easily.” His eyes flashed dangerously and his mouth straightened in to a line.

   “Don’t piss me off, Bec.”

   “I’m not trying to piss you off,” I began snappishly.

   “Well, you’re doing a pretty great job of it at the moment,” he snapped back. “Do me a favor alright? Don’t…don’t come near me at all. Six months ought to do it.”

   “You can’t _ask_ me not to come near you!” I said angrily, “That’s…”

   “Outlandish? Crazy? Stupid?” he demanded impatiently, “Anything else you can think of?” I stared at him for a moment, before saying,

   “Heartbreaking.”

   “Bec, don’t,” he groaned, mussing his hair up. His blue eyes were burning with that startling intensity, that night he had left me. “I’ll see you around.”

   “Niall,” I called out after him.

   “What?”

   “Harry invited me to fly with you guys to the concert you’re doing in Leeds the night before you leave.”

   “Then don’t come, Bec.”

   “What if I want to?”

   “Nice,” he said bitterly, “You just heard me tell you how I hate to see you with him, but you’d happily ignore it all and be with him.”

   “So what if I want to be with him?” I demanded, “Does it really bother you that much?”

   “Yes!” he spat, “If you don’t even _want_ to!”

   “I KNOW WHAT I WANT!” I yelled and he fell quiet. “Fuck that Niall, this has told me _everything_ I need to know. I’ve just hung around too long, and I’m not going to let it get away from me. And I want Harry.” He looked shocked.

   “Harry?” he repeated.

   I didn’t bother to reply, instead I waded to the other end of the pool and hauled myself out- dripping wet and now appropriately freezing. My gaze flickered over to him, standing looking delicious, but a small frown on his face. It was more confusion than anger.

   I drew my shirt around my head, luckily I was wearing shorts so they weren’t too bagged down. He held out his towel to me but I ignored him, deciding I’d pay a nice visit to my choice.

   Too late to take anything back, I had yelled it his face in a moment of misdirected fury. Now I couldn’t take it back. Maybe this was what I needed, a final push in the right direction. Obviously, away from the self-destructive relationship Niall and I had.

   And into the arms of Harry Styles, who’d been waiting for so long.

 

***

 

   <i> Two Weeks Ago <i/>

 

   “…and you should have _heard_ the noises she was making!” Zayn crowed, slamming his bottle down. “Man, I thought Bec was vocal.”

   “Oi!” I said snappishly, kicking him with my heels under the table. He flinched and stuck his tongue out at me. “Haz, tell Zayn to keep it in his pants.”

   “Zayn, keep it in your pants,” said Haz automatically, his arm around my shoulders. I glanced up at him to see him almost ogling me with those green eyes, and he grinned sheepishly. “What?”

   “You’re doing that thing you do.” He rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth probably to remind me to not to bring it up, but Louis arrived, clutching a glittery purse in one hand with a frown on his face.

   “Have you guys seen Eleanor?” he demanded and I leant forward to hear him properly over the music. “She rushed off to the bathroom as she got here, and I can’t find her.”

   “Nup, sorry,” said Harry, with a shrug, “Bec, jesus, stop it!”

   “Stop what?” I shot back with an innocent smile, but as usual, he wasn’t fooled.

   “You’re touching…”

   “Wrong leg, Bec!” yelped Niall, starting in his seat at the booth next to me.

   “Unbelievable,” smirked Haz, leaning over, his lips grazing my jaw. As he pulled away, the place where he had brushed felt like it was on fire.

   “Will the three of you pull yourselves together!” barked Louis, “Stop groping each other and come find me if you see Eleanor.” I couldn’t help but laugh as he stalked off, still holding what was presumably Eleanor’s purse. Or maybe it wasn’t, seeing what I knew about him.

   “Reckon Liam and Danielle are gonna show up soon?” asked Zayn, glancing over his shoulder, “I mean, it is our party.”

   “A celebration,” I corrected, jabbing him with my foot again, “Of your album success. _Humble_ , Malik.” He cursed, drawing his legs up around his chest.

   “Jeez Bec if you’re going to do that, you could at least take your shoes off,” he said woefully, picking up his bottle and sipping it mild manneredly. “And I’m humble as fuck compared to how fantastic I truly am.”

   “Urgh,” I moaned, uncrossing my legs and making a move to get up, “I’m gonna dance, aight? Haz, you wanna come?” He shrugged, staring me up and down to the point that I started feeling self-conscious again. Ridiculous really, how he could do that with a simple look.

   “Haz, I think you’re supposed to answer her, not undress her with your eyes,” sniggered Zayn.

   “You’re awfully brave for a guy holding a glass bottle I could smash around his head, Z,” I sniped back and he howled with laughter. Even just this, bantering with them felt good again. The true five friends I loved. Every single one of them.

   “In a while,” answered Harry eventually, holding my hand, “You go have fun. I’d rather watch you in that dress.” I blushed obviously, and shut my mouth. So much for not being like all those other bimbo girls that melt in his eyes and his words and his touch and…

   “WHOO!” crowed Zayn, “Hear that, Bec? He likes that dress of yours! Trust me, he’ll like you better out of it.”

   “Zayn, get out!” I howled, shaking my head at him. Ruining the moment. Nice. “Niall, what about you? Dance with me?”

   “Ah, why not?” he said, getting up and leaving his drink. As he got up to stand with me, he whispered in my ear, “It might start getting up in Haz’s grill though.” I laughed as if he said something hilarious.

   “Oh Nialler,” I tutted, slinging my arms around his shoulders and placing a kiss on his cheek, “You worry too much.”

   “And _me_?” demanded Zayn, “What about _me_?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his beer still dangling dangerously loose from one hand.

   “What about you, babe?” I said warily.

   “Hear that, Haz?” he chortled madly, leaning forward and lightly punching Harry on the arm, “She called me her babe! Wallow in jealousy, Styles.”

   “Don’t push it, Zayn,” replied Haz in a jokingly serious voice.

   “Shouldn’t you ask me to come dance too?” Zayn continued, turning back to Niall and I. “I mean, really we all know I’m by far the best dancer here. I’d put all of you to shame.”

   “Is that right?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

   “Yep,” he huffed. Oh Zayn, he was always loose on the drink. “I’m like a younger, less dead version of Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.” I groaned.

   “Oh very,” I said ironically, “With the exact same amount of hair gel.”

   “But I use it better!”

   “Help!” I wailed, throwing my hands in the air, “I’m suffocating under the weight of his unrestrainable ego!”

   “Aw, she puns!” said Zayn sarcastically and I rolled my eyes at him as I grabbed Niall’s hand and grabbed him over to the dance floor. “If I don’t remember, you were suffocating under the weight of something else of mine not so long ago.”

   “PERV!” I called, turning and snapping away. I could hear his laughter over the blaring music.

<i> _“Get on the flo…”_ <i/>

   Niall and I danced for a while, until Zayn joined us, still holding his bottle but clearly enjoying himself. It was funny, the three of us just dancing to the loud music, but mostly Niall and I laughing as Zayn showed us his moves for our personal entertainment.

   Finally, Liam arrived with Danielle who hugged me, apparently having forgiven me for being so rude to her last time she visited.

   She whispered ‘congrats’ in my ear which made absolutely no sense to me at all, but I chose to ignore it, and instead just smiled at her madly. Liam sod off somewhere, probably to find frantic Louis, wherever he had disappeared to find Eleanor. Danielle joined us three and it soon became very clear why she was a professional dancer.

   The way she moved, combined with how beautiful she was, it was no wonder half the guys there were clearly checking her out. But she had Liam, and those two were perfect for each other. Especially obvious when he rocked up and demonstrated his inept dancing skills alongside the rest of us.

   “Hold me!” I sang, walking back over to the booth where Harry and Louis were sitting. “We’re dancing in the dark of the night…” I held my hands out to him, offering for him to get up, but he laughed.

   “Harry, take a hint, she wants you to dance!” Louis urged, prodding him. Harry shot him a cryptic look which threw me off a little, but I seized the opportunity of distraction and grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet.

   “What’s with the ass-sitting?” I asked, holding my arms around his neck as his found their way to my waist. “You seem a little…out of it tonight.”

   “I’m just thinking, it’s alright,” he said quietly, leaning his forehead against mine. Urgh, was it bad that all I could think of was Niall? “I’m alright, Bec.”

   “HAHA!” cried Zayn, jumping up next to us and screaming in our ears, “Ruining the moment!” We pulled apart and I laughed, reaching out and slapping Zayn on the arm.

   “I’ll ruin _your_ moment soon!”

   “Every moment is my moment,” he sang, waltzing off back to the booth. Haz shook his head and tutted wisely.

   “Someone should hold his tonic for him,” he smirked and I chuckled, leaning my head against his chest. But soon, I was torn away as Niall grabbed my hand and tugged me back over to dance with the rest of them.

   “Bu-” I began weakly, watching as I was pulled away from Harry to dance.

   “Aw girl, that’s not how you dance!” laughed Zayn, appearing out of nowhere. He took me by my hips and gently guided me with his own, so I was practically dancing against him. I glanced over at Harry, still not entirely sure what was wrong.

   He seemed happy, but still a little distant. And it was a party, _his_ party, so why wasn’t he smashing it like he usually would?

   Louis was talking to him, with wide eyes and looking urgent. He prodded Harry in the arm and glanced up at me. I looked away. Were they talking about me? I whipped around and took a similar stance with Zayn than what I did with Harry. After a while, I noticed Liam had drifted over too and joined their conversation.

   Harry looked somewhat dubious, the look didn’t fit him. Suddenly, I felt my stomach quenching a little.

   “Bec, you right sweetheart?” slurred Zayn into my ear. I looked up at him and grinned. “You so worried, girl.”

   “Don’t girl me,” I replied, prodding him in the chest.

   “I won’t girl you if you grind up on me,” he said, not making much sense but looking relatively proud of himself that it almost embarrassed me.

   “OK, I’ll grind,” I laughed, letting him take my hips again as a new song began to play. The bass was deep, and hard hitting. I lost myself in the music, and the feeling of Zayn pressed against my back, his head turned to the side, lips teasing my neck, was actually more enjoyable than I cared to admit.

   Watching Zayn dance made me laugh anyway.

   A short glance in the direction of the booth confirmed what must have crossed my mind at least a few times. Harry, Louis, Niall and Liam were all sitting and talking. Haz was frowning, before glancing up at me. They were _conspiring_ against me!

   Harry got up as the first chorus began fading, holding his drink in his hand and striding over with a determined look in his eyes.

   I dropped my hands from my hair and frowned at him. Zayn noticed I had frozen up on him, and looked up to see Haz.

   “Oh _Haz_!” he cried, launching himself on Harry and hugging him tightly. “You look spunky tonight.”

   “Thanks Z,” Haz replied, not taking his eyes off me, “Go get me another drink, aye?”

   “Ah, I hear ya!” said Zayn, turning and marching off in the completely opposite way from the bar. I wondered how long he’d wonder around.

   “You conspiring against me, Styles?” I asked resisting the urge to fold my arms across my chest. “I saw you guys talking over there.”

   “That?” he said, taking my hand in his, “That was nothing, really. Are you drunk?”

   “What?” I said, taken aback. “No, I’m not drunk.”

   “You had a drink before,” he pointed out, dancing with me. _Now_ he wanted to dance?

   “Nah,” I said, shaking my head, “Promise, I’m not drunk. Just buzzed. Why?”

   “Don’t want you to be drunk when I do this,” he sighed as the song finished and a slower more appropriate one came on. It sounded vaguely familiar. “I-I love you, Bec.” I let the words sink in, and instead of thinking, I let the first words fall from my mouth that would anyway.

   “I love you too, Haz,” I said quietly, and he beamed happily like a little kid with a new toy. I couldn’t help but smile too. “You know it, you ponce. Why now?”

   “I dunno,” he said, flicking his hair out of his eyes, “Just to remind you. And I need to ask you something else.”

   “Oh?”

   “I know it’s all been messy,” he sighed, “Us and-”

   “Wait,” I said sharply, holding my finger up to his lips. “Are we doing this? Seriously, right now, here?” He frowned at me expectantly. At the worst moment possible, I recognised the song. Niall’s audition song- So Sick. Great. Just _great_.

   “We can go outside,” he suggested, but I shook my head.

   “Let’s talk then,” I said, but he held up his hand.

   “Let me do this first,” he said, leaning forward and kissing me. Way to derail my train of thought. I clutched him and I could distantly hear the others cheering like idiots. I could feel him smiling into the kiss, chaste and sweet, but full of compassion.

   We pulled away and I brushed his hair out of his eyes with my hand.

   “So?” I breathed, slightly out of breath.

   “Forget the technicalities,” he whispered, “Forget all the stupid things we’ve done to each other. Forget all the meaningless complications, and the empty words.”

   “Alright,” I said carefully, curious to see where he was going with this.

   “Just remember, you know you make me happy?” he said, looking me in the eyes. “Surreally.”

   “Thanks.” He blinked, before laughing loudly, shaking his head and staring at me.

   “You’re unbelievable, Lowthorne,” he muttered, leaning down and kissing me lightly again. “You’re the only girl I know that’d say thanks to that.”

   “One in a million!” I teased, rubbing my thumb on his arm. “You make me happy too, Harry.” Yeah, a happiness that despite what I had said, was beginning to fade. Not with him. I’d always be happy with him. But…it was dissatisfaction. Emptiness. I had lost my sense of direction. Now, where was there to go from here?

   “I was thinking before,” he said quietly, “Not _conspiring_ , beautiful. I was just wondering…that you’d be my girlfriend. If you’d- if you’d have it.”

   I almost wanted to laugh, because it was so clear that he hadn’t done this as much as he’d bedded countless women or seduced them. He was just an unsure, fumbling teenager again. Like _me_.

   “Are you asking me out?” I asked with a small smile. He hesitated, before nodding.

   “Yeah, I think I am,” he laughed breathily, “So far, it seems to going pretty badly.”

   “Oh, shut up you,” I muttered, tightening my grip around his neck. “You’re doing just fine, charming.”

   “Is that a yes?” he inquired, with a raised eyebrow. I had effectively dodged around the issue up until now.

   “I- I think I just need time to think about it,” I replied, and I saw his face fall. Somehow, there was some empty party of me that just didn’t feel right. Like even agreeing to be Harry Styles’ girlfriend wouldn’t give me that prod in the right direction I needed. I was _unsure_.

   “So-so a no?” he said weakly.

   “No!” I cried, “No, Haz, it’s not a no. That’s ridiculous! Wh-why would you even think that?” He frowned, probably because I had begun to ramble, and I didn’t _ramble._

“Because you didn’t say yes?”

   “Alright, fair enough,” I mused, “But it doesn’t mean it’s a no. Haz we’ve been friends forever, and yes I know- don’t give me that give me that look, I know our friendship hasn’t been exactly…”

   “…traditional?” he finished, “Normal? Really Bec, do you go around doing this with all your friends?” I frowned at him, and he frowned back. After a while it just became a giant frown-a-thon.

   “No.”

   “Right. So if we’re not just friends, what are we?” he asked. I shrugged.

   “We’re not going out.” His hands dropped from my waist. “Haz- no, I mean right now.”

   “You know, if you don’t want to date me, you could just say,” he said, his expression becoming closed off. Oh god, I knew what was coming when this happened.

   “We’re more than friends,” I said, my arms jerking around, not sure what to do. I resisted the impulse to cross them over my chest, the way I supposedly did when I got defensive. Social snail. “Of course we are, Haz. After everything, I know that we’re so much more.”

   “So we’re more than friends, but we’re not dating,” he said slowly, “Which is why, I’m asking you now.”

   “To be honest, I need time to get my head around the idea of us being more than friends,” I sighed. I looked at him. “You understand, right, Harry?” He grunted noncommittally.

   “What about this stuff about you not liking complications?” he demanded, “If we’re nothing definite, then how is this any different than just another complication for you?”

   “I’m used to being this with you,” I said, signalling at the growing space between us which I became suddenly aware of. “Nothing labelled, no pressure.”

   “And what, going out with me will _label_ it and put pressure on you?” he said incredulously, sounding worse coming from his mouth. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

   “I’m not afraid of anything,” I protested, “Just…I need time.” He took a deep breath in, then out again.

   “Alright,” he said in a strangely calm way. Yet, I could still hear the wariness growing in his voice. “Alright, Bec.”

   Yeah, I knew, as he stalked off, leaving me there feeling cold and breathless, that from then on, it could only get more messy.


	28. Stand Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i'm so sorrrry! ITS BEEN SO LONG D:  
> but ive been super busy with school+some other irrelevant shit so to make up for it, this chapter is ridiculously long
> 
> WARNING  
> THIS IS THE SECOND LAST CHAPTER  
> meaning next chapter is the final conclusion to TOTWMATSMATWMHB (wtf) sometimes i really dont understand how or why i come up with such terrible terrible names
> 
> ill do all the formal thank you's and loving then but ENJOY for now!
> 
> much love  
> xx
> 
> p.s. there will be a sequel- this is part of a three part series so the end isn't really the end! :)

 

_Present Day  
late-April, 2013_

 

  
  
   I didn’t have a special place I went when I got stressed.

   However, I did have that place that Harry took me once. It admittedly wasn’t much, but I didn’t have many options. In the matter of a few weeks, I had successfully ruined the temporary peace and pissed off the two boys who I cared for most.

   Harry. I didn’t even know what to say to him anymore. This on-off thing between was mostly my fault, and every time it ended in a mess. He did though have a terrible habit of putting me on the spot. Of all the things he could have said to me, asking me out was not expected. Saying it like that made me sound stupid, because truly Haz and I had been anything but friends since we met.

   And Niall. Yeah, I was still pissed at him. More than anything, I knew he was pissed at me too. Or maybe a few degrees more than pissed. I always saw Niall as the guy who would always be there. Now it was like there was a large hole in my life. I had pushed him- for once, he didn’t let me walk all over him. He’d pushed back.

   Everything had spun out of control, and now I feared that I might have lost him forever.

   Forget being more than friends, I was worried whether our friendship was still hanging on by its tender threads. I could still hear his words, his angry voice, the look in his eyes. I tried not to think too much about it, because every time I did, I ended up stupidly tearing up like a sissy. Truthfully, I still did have feelings for him.

   <i>“Do you _want_ me to care, or do you want me not to? Do you want me to curl back in my defensive little shell and play the good friend, or do you want me to be this…this _wreck_ that I am when I’m alone?” <i/>

   I squeezed my eyes shut, before opening them again. I was sitting on top of the tiny concrete building, overlooking the greens of Hackney Downs. During the day, I found it was so much more beautiful than I imagined. I could hear the rush of London in the near distance, mixed with the rush of the sharp breeze and the screech of children talking and laughing below.

   I drew my knees closer around my chest.

   Maybe this was just the universe telling me it was my time to step away from it all. Hurting both Niall and Harry left me more devastated than I should’ve been.

   I saw a group of children walking across the grass clearing, and a few of them noticed me. I smiled to myself, and looked down, fiddling with my shoes, almost meekly.

   “Bec?” That familiar voice started me. I glanced up and looked closer.

   “ _Lakyn_?” God, could I not help running into him? Even just looking at him like this, he looked amazing, but everything I thought I had felt for him was somewhat non-existent anymore. “What are you doing here?” He was holding the hand of a little girl, but he dropped it as he came up to the concrete block and squinted up at me.

   “I could ask you the same thing.” I nodded, letting out a halfhearted scoff, staring out at London. He eventually crawled up the side of the building and plopped down beside me.

   “Oh wow,” he breathed, “Nice view you’ve discovered.”

   “A friend showed me,” I admitted, glancing at him distractedly. “How are you, Lakyn?” He waved his hand at me, before adjusting the collar of his denim shirt.

   “I’m fine,” he replied dismissively, his eyes fixed on the children running around below, “Keep running into you around here.”

   “Well, it’s London,” I said with a small shrug. “Bound to run into some people.”

   “Mm,” he said, before adopting the same position as me, our knees half drawn to our chests. “So really, what are you doing here? As a member of staff I am obliged to ask.”

   “Staff?” I repeated, taken aback, “You’re a teacher here?”

   “In training,” he replied, nodding, “It’s great, working with the kids.” So maybe under all that, he was a truly decent guy. I knew that, somewhere there. We sat in silence for a while, watching the kids play below. Just seeing them happy made me smile, grudgingly.

   “Harry took me here.”

   He glanced at me in surprise.

   “Oh, the douchebag?” he said and I shot him a look. He laughed shortly. “Sorry, I forgot. You dating him yet?”

   “Nope,” I said stoutly. I could tell he was waiting for a further explanation, but none was forthcoming.

   “Well, I bet he’s still pining for you.” I made a face and he laughed again. “And what happened to catching up? We never got around to it.”

   “Yeah,” I said with a shrug again, “I was busy, sort of. Studying and stuff. You know I failed my semesters, and my scholarship was revoked?”

   “What?” he said in shock. “Seriously?”

   “U-huh,” I said bitterly, with a smirk, “But my friend helped me out. I’m never gonna stop owing him.” I held my tongue, realising that this probably wasn’t the best way for us to start off again.

   “But you’re staying for now?”

   “I’m re-sitting my exams soon,” I answered, “If I can scrape a pass in most of them, they’ll reconsider kicking my ass back home.” He sniffed, with a small smile.

   “You’ll be fine, Bec.” I wondered how he was doing it. Now, he just seemed so much more carefree. So much happier than before, like when he was with me. I gulped, and tried to force myself to be more like that. Light. Easy going. To be honest, it was much easier without a burden on my conscience.

   “Anyway, enough about me. How are you going? Any luck with a label?”

   “Actually,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, “I finally got signed last month.”

   “What, that’s great!” I exclaimed, “Congrats, that’s amazing.”

   “I’m going on a road trip too for a short tour,” he said with a proud smile. “I might even need an entourage.” He nudged me, poking his tongue out. I forced a laugh.

   “I’m not great being a groupie.” He just cocked his head and regarded me with an almost pitying smile. Eck. “What?”

   “No,” he said, looking curious, “What’s up with you, Bec? You seem so distant.”

   “Eh, nothing,” I replied dismissively, looking away, “I’m just tired.” I didn’t know which was more upsetting. Harry and I falling out once again. My massive fight with Niall which left me confused and angry.

   “Mm,” he said thoughtfully, “You still in with those boys?”

   “Yeah,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Yeah, I am. They’re still my best friends.”

   “Well,” he said, with a huff, sitting up and dismounting the ladder. “Bec, if that’s how your best friends make you feel, then what are you doing with yourself?”

   I stared at him blankly. Maybe he was right. I didn’t want to admit it, but maybe being friends with these guys was so much less worth it than I thought, if I was made to distraught by it. I opened my mouth to say something, just as the bell rang far off, probably signaling the end of class.

   He waved to me, with a tight smile.

   “I’ll see you around, Bec,” he called, “Take care.” I watched him retreat back across the oval with the small group of children accompanying him. The words were still dangling from my mouth.

   “Lakyn!” I shouted, “L-Lakyn!” He stopped and turned, some twenty metres off.

   “Yeah?”

   “I might…I might reconsider that road trip.” He paused before breaking out into a smile.

   “Alright, Bec,” he called back, with a wave, ducking his head with an absent minded smile, “Alright.”

   I watched him disappear into the trees. Maybe all along, I realised I might have had more friends than I had imagined.

 

***

 

   Liam had been giving me judging looks. I stood, my arms around wrapped around myself, shivering in the cold early evening as him and I waited on the airstrip.

   “Yeah, I think so,” he said, “What about you?”

   “What about me?” I said quickly.

   “I mean, your exams.”

   “Oh,” I breathed with a shrug, “I guess. I’ve studied all I could.” He nodded, but looked relatively disinterested.

   “Bec?” I glanced at him distractedly, unsure what he would go prodding for now. I wondered if Niall had told him about what happened between us. Liam hesitated, before opening his mouth to speak, but shut it tightly as we glanced over and noticed Zayn approaching us, hugging his jacket around himself.

   “Ey,” he mumbled, hugging me and pressing his lips to my cheek, “How are you, sweetheart?”

   “Fine,” I replied, still feeling disconnected. “Where are the others?”

   “Well,” said Zayn, leaning back and motioning behind me, “Probably there.” I turned around to the see their private jet slowly rolling across the airstrip towards us. It was large, luxurious and grand. Feeling inadequate as it was, I hung back warily as it came to a stop and the door opened, a flight of stairs descending to the ground.

   Louis popped his head out, looking slightly more brushed up than usual. A thin layer of make-up brushed across his cheeks, as with the rest of them, being the only sign they were something more than just five guys. He swung down the stairs with a small smile, before his eyes landed on me.

   “You…” he began uncertainly, but I shook my head.

   “I’m not in the mood, Louis,” I almost snapped, which was surprising seeing as I thought one fight with them was enough. “Can I go up?” He shot me a look, but waved me up, deciding that I wasn’t worth the waste of effort.

   “Go on, we’re just waiting for Niall.”

   I was already clambering through the door, thankful that the spacious cabin was noticeably warmer than outside. I pulled my thick jacket off my shoulders, only to pull up at the sight of Harry sitting in a seat next to the window.

   His elbow was propped up on the window sill, his gaze fixed on the early twilight sky, and his hand curled across his mouth. He glanced up at me, an abrupt reproach crossing his eyes before they softened gradually. He sat up straighter in his seat, with a tight smile.

   “Hey Bec,” he said softly, in an almost raspy voice as though he hadn’t spoken in a bit. He coughed self-consciously before addressing me again. “Ready for the concert, then?” I spared him a forced smile, because honestly I couldn’t look at him without feeling like I was a complete bitch. Imagine, if there was any other girl from the millions, they would jump at the opportunities I had lost and let slip away.

   “Course,” I said automatically, making my legs move over so I dropped myself into the seat across from him. I tossed my jacket carelessly across the seat next to me. “I haven’t been to a One Direction concert, thinking about it.”

   “What?” he demanded incredulously, “Then why are you even _here_?” I laughed, but I couldn’t help the sour tone creep into it.

   “I don’t know,” I tried as lightly as possible, “There’s a first for everything I guess.”

   “Well, it’s a pre-starter for tomorrow,” he continued, stretching lazily, “Six months on the road is gonna be an absolute killer.”

   “When will you be back?” I asked cautiously.

   “Sometime in late October, early November, summat like that,” he said, his hand still curled over his mouth, his green eyes intently on me. We fell quiet as the others got on board, Louis chatting loudly about a trend on twitter.

   “-I mean don’t they have anything else to do?” he demanded, turning to Liam and Zayn.

   “Probably not,” shrugged Liam, “I mean, they did start that one about H-”

   “No!” cried Louis, holding his hand up to silence him, “Don’t even _mention_ …don’t wanna _hear_ about it! Don’t they realise how crap it is for me and Eleanor?”

   “What’s up now?” I asked, turning to him as he plopped down into the seat next to me. Zayn and Liam sat across each other on the other side of the aisle, leaving the seat next to Harry open.

   “Oh nothing,” huffed Louis, sounding put off, “Some twitter trend the fans started I think. Out of line as the Hannah one they started up last year.”

   “Calm down Lou,” I sighed tiredly, “I bet they’re just bored. It’s not for real.”

   “Oh, it’s for _real_ ,” he growled, flicking his hair irritably. I rolled my eyes at his stubborn attitude.

   “He loves them,” assured Liam briefly, leaning back to let Niall step past him and into the seat adjacent to Haz’s. _Niall_!

   I had remind myself to act normally and not to freak out. I swallowed, glancing out the window at the runway.

   “So when are we leaving?” I asked, resting my elbow against the windowsill.

   “Paul needs to hop down here first,” replied Louis, “He’s taking his time, innhe?” Harry snorted and I glanced at him.

   “What’s up with Paul, then?”

   “Nothing,” said Harry harmlessly, flicking a piece of lint off his jacket, “But well there’s his daughter…phwoar.”

   “Paul has a daughter?” I asked with a frown.

   “Yeah, her name’s _Cecelia_ ,” articulated Louis in a careful voice, glancing over his shoulder quickly to check Paul wasn’t coming. He leaned closer to me and added in a stage whisper, “She’s _fit_.”

   The others laughed, oddly Zayn being the loudest. I allowed myself a grudging smile.

   “So what, Zayn’s got it in for her?” I asked and the others immediately fell quiet, while Zayn blushed beet red.

   “I- what? _No_ ,” he said quickly, obviously unable to hide his clear embarrassment. I raised an eyebrow as Louis started sniggering. “Urgh- alright. Maybe.”

   “God, Zayn,” I laughed, leaning across the aisle and pinching his thigh, “Another one?”

   “I’m not that bad!” he protested weakly, “And is it really that obvious?”

   “Well, out of all of these guys, you laughed the loudest.”

   “Oh she’s all _clued up_ now, is she?” smirked Louis, ruffling up my hair. I scowled at him, and shook my hair, making no difference at all. I was definitely not Pantene ad material. “She’s rather nice though. Reminds me of you when we first met you.”

   “But blonder,” added Harry, pointing at me earnestly.

   “And taller.”

   “Maybe a little curvier.”

   “Oh why _thank_ you!” I cried, throwing my hands in the air as they laughed. “In other words, she’s just a prettier version of me?”

   “Oh no,” reassured Liam in his typical way, “You’re smarter, Bec. Not to mention funnier too, plus she’s a little fake for me.”

   “Fake for you?” chortled Zayn, “Oh come on, Li…”

   “In your pants, Payne!” crowed Louis, kicking Liam lightly in the knee, “Did you see that? He just hit three birds with one stone. Danielle, Bec _and_ Cecelia.”

   “How _you_ doing, playa boy?” demanded Harry in the most ridiculous Joey imitation ever. Liam just grinned happily and leant back in his seat, looking rather smug.

   “So why is she the reason Paul’s late?”

   “She’s the typical high maintenance daughter,” answered Louis, “You know, rough, demanding and needy.”

   “Oh so of course Zayn appreciates that?” I laughed.

   “I do!” shot back Zayn, with a cheeky wink, “I need to be needed, baby.”

   “Will you look at that?” asked Louis, nudging me with his elbow. “Z’s trying to get back into your good books.”

   “Oh please,” I huffed, “Liam’s the only one forgiven here. The rest of you are in my black book until you get back from tour.”

   “…who’s black book are you boys in now?” demanded Paul stepping onto the jet. We turned around, to see looking tired as usual and a little wary.

   “Mine,” I replied, “You might wanna keep them under lock and key for the tour, Paul.”

   “That I will,” he said with a tired smile, “Don’t worry, I intend to, Bec.”

   “Hey Paul,” ribbed Zayn, glancing up at him, “Are we ready to go?”

   “He’s discretely gonna bring up Cecelia, watch,” murmured Louis under his breath, into my ear as he leant over. I grinned, and glanced at him, anticipating whether Louis’ prediction would come true or not.

   “Yeah, should be,” said Paul, checking the things, “So take off in five, as soon as we hit the ground over in Leeds, we need to be running you guys off to the performance centre, we’re running a little behind schedule. Just follow me, you’ll be fine.”

   “What, is there gonna be a crowd at the runway?” I joked and the others looked at me seriously. I stopped smiling abruptly. “ _What_?”

   “Bec, you just make sure you keep up with the guys,” he said finally, evidently not having any patience to try teach me the way of paparazzi-avoiding. My worst nightmare. “As soon as we reach the performance centre, hair, make-up, clothes and hit backstage. Bec, I’ll get someone to come get you before the boys get on, and we’ll get you a seat in SoundCheck.”

   “SoundCheck?” I repeated blankly. I never been to a concert where I’d had VIP seats before.

   “Very important-” began Louis, but I smacked his arm irritably.

   “I know what it _means,_ Louis,” I said snappishly as he grinned.

   “Alright, that’s it I reckon,” sighed Paul, checking his watch, “Let’s you guys up and running.” He turned and started to head out the door, but Zayn called out after him,

   “Hey Paul?”

   “Yes, Zayn?”

   “Why were you running late, just wondering?” he asked, attempting to appear casual, but he was craning up in his seat. Louis ribbed me with his elbow again. I glared at him but he nodded enthusiastically, as if needing to let me know I should be paying attention.

   “Caught up with some problems,” replied Paul dismissively, turning to go again, “But we’re fine n-”

   “What problems? Management? Entourage?” prompted Zayn, “Uh…family?”

   “Something like that,” answered Paul vaguely, looking suspicious now. “What’s up Zayn?”

   “Oh nothing,” said Zayn, shrinking back into his seat as if knowing full well his game had been caught. Paul turned to go again, and Zayn called out just as the door flipped shut, “Say hi to Cecelia for me!”

   “Priceless!” howled Louis as the door whooshed shut, locking us in the air tight cabin. “Oh Zayn, you’re _face_ …” The engine began to hum beneath us like a rousing monster. Urgh. Just breathe Bec, just breathe.

   “Didn’t I tell you?” Louis’ voice interrupted my thoughts. I started slightly.

   “Tell me what?” I asked thickly.

   “That he’d bring her up somehow!”

   “So that’s what you two were snickering about over there?” demanded Zayn with a raised eyebrow, but a faint blush in his cheeks, “Grow up, you guys.”

   “Grow up,” scoffed Louis, rolling his eyes as the seatbelt sign chimed and lit green above our heads. “You need to grow something else Zayn.”

   We all sat back into our seats, doing up our seatbelts. I hardly told anyone, but next to claustrophobia, landing planes were one of my worst fears. Taking off wasn’t as much of a problem. In hindsight, agreeing to come along wasn’t my finest moment. Especially when I thought about the crowd that might just be awaiting their arrival at Leeds airport runway.

   Soon we were up in the air and flying along smoothly, the captain announcing that we were just half an hour away from landing. In all, the private jet with the grand take-off and landing just seemed unnecessary. Maybe it was for the show, seeing their worldwide tour was kicking off tomorrow.

   Tomorrow.

   The thought of them leaving made me sad, but it also made me realise another loose end I’d left untied. The blonde boy, who I noticed abruptly, hadn’t said a single word the entire time. As Louis continued to ramble on about one of their performance numbers, I slowly allowed myself to raise my eyes to him.

   The seatbelt sign was off, so he sat with his knees hugged against his chest, with a weary expression. As soon as I looked at him, his eyes turned to me as though they could tell. I looked away again distractedly.

   Sure, I was angry as hell at him. Well, more frustrated than anything. That whatever he was holding back, in the look in his eyes, had been left unsaid. Somehow that had pushed me, into saying things I normally wouldn’t have. Him too.

   Frustrated, but beneath that, upset with myself and a little desperate. I hated _not_ being friends with him, not unlike when I first arrived in London. At first, I thought I could survive without him, but I soon realised that it was futile. Same deal with Haz when we fought, but at least he seemed a little more willing than Niall to cooperate more than anything.

   When Niall and I were angry at each other, it was because we didn’t say things when we should have.

   Eventually Louis hopped out for a toilet break, and Haz dozed off warily. I watched his curls flop against his forehead, as he leant against the cold glass, looking out undoubtedly over London at night. The sky was pitch black now, and there was probably just over twenty minutes left of the flight.

   Zayn and Liam meanwhile, were engrossed in a conversation about god knows what, as I snuck cautious glances at Niall. Finally, I mustered up my courage and leant over to touch his knee carefully. At once, he drew it away, looking away distractedly.

   I could feel my confidence wavering, starting to wither away.

   “Niall,” I said shakily, trying to sound reasonable instead of upset. “Will you talk to me?” He paused, before shaking his head. Stubborn _as_. I took a deep breath in and tried again.

   “Niall…”

   “I don’t want to,” he mumbled, ducking his head, his blonde hair flopping over his eyes. “Please don’t, Bec.” Jeez. How was I abruptly so crushed by his words?

   Despairing, I swallowed and forced myself to look away. I hadn’t quite processed the damage we had created between ourselves, the rift of empty space. What had I _done_? We couldn’t even look each other in the eyes.

   Louis popped back out of, adjusting his shirt as he sat back down in the chair beside me.

   “So,” he sighed, craning over me to look out the window, “I’d say what, ten minutes until landing in Leeds?”

   “Probably,” answered Niall, but instead of looking at him, I fixed my stare on Harry. So that was that then. Niall would never want me again. Whether it was because of our fight, or because the final piece of venom I had hurled at him out of anger. That I wanted Harry, not him.

   And I did want Harry. But there was part of me that wasn’t fully sure; the part of me holding me back from just saying yes. I had blamed it on uncertainty that if I said yes now, everything would change after the boys came back from their tour. No one goes six months without changing, not even Harry Styles.

   The pilot announced landing taxi, and a rush of emotions swept over me. It was a nauseating mix of my stomach clenching from my fear of landing, and the nerves in my blood from the looming presence of flashing lights and suffocating crowds.

   My grip on the arm of the chair tightened and I braced myself, gritting my teeth to stop them gnashing over each other as the plane lowered, the ground rushing beneath us as the true speed of our travel was put into perspective. Finally, the wheels lowered and brushed the runway, and a horrible skidding noise grinded from beneath us.

   I cursed loudly as Louis’ hand found mine reassuringly, with a brief squeeze. I caught Harry watching us almost curiously, and I was almost grateful for the temporary distraction. Finally, we slowed down enough without one of the wings ripping off or crashing into an aircraft hangar.

   We could hear the roar of an approaching crowd, a mix of photographers, press and fans.

   The boys got up and started getting ready, picking up their coats and fixing their stuff up. I wondered where Paul was. Just as Harry reached to pick up his jacket, I beat him to it. The others were bustling about and getting ready, but he stood there, an eyebrow raised.

   I motioned at him to turn around. He did almost obediently, and I helped him into it, pulling the sleeves of his arms. As I adjusted it around his shoulders, he turned around to face me again, and I started to do it up. I avoided his eye, instead staring at my fingers numbly doing up the clasps.

   “Bec,” he said softly, catching my hands in his and forcing me to look at him. “It’s alright, it’s not a straightjacket.” He undid a few buttons before smiling.

   “Sorry,” I said shortly, feeling slightly abashed.

   “Becstar!” cried Louis, grabbing my hand and tugging me away. Oh, what a good wingman he was. He pulled me so we stood behind the door. “Ready for them?”

   “No,” I huffed, “Never am, Louis. Prepare for the hate.”

   “But we like you,” he said earnestly, squeezing my hand. I smiled. “Isn’t that enough?”

   “Not everyone does.” He frowned and I paused, not sure whether I should bother telling him. Harry stood behind us, next to Zayn and Liam and Niall behind them.

   I could almost feel Haz’s wary gaze on us, as he hovered about. My hand felt all self-conscious now. Yeah, Louis and I were always clingy to each other, but mostly because I knew I could whatever I wanted and he wouldn’t care about in that sort of way. Because he’d never see me like that, unlike the rest of them. I wondered how Eleanor would see this.

   Eventually, I pulled my hand away.

   “Bec?”

   “Let’s not, Lou,” I replied, staring at the back of the door. “More stupid rumours would make it worse.” Of course, there was always some sort of deciphered double meaning behind what I said, and he probably knew so he left it alone.

   “Alright,” he replied lightly, “Just hang tight and stay close.” Almost on cue, the door swung upwards, revealing the crowd below as the stairs unfolded. The flash was blinding. The cries were deafening. I glanced to my left to see Louis beaming with a smile plastered on his face. Well, if he could do it.

   I looked out, smiling broadly like I was deliriously happy. I ducked my head slightly, letting the hair swoop over my face a little. We descended the steps and I was tempted to glance behind me to see how the others looked with their camera ready faces.

   “LOUIS! HARRY! ZAYN! NIALL! LIAM!”

   It seemed like that was all I could hear. We weaved past the flashing lights, as the boys greeted the enthusiastic fans with waves and occasionally stopping to sign their stuff or take a picture. Dizzying how they seemed so perfect for this, showing people how real they were. Just boys.

   I stood by them and smiling even though my face was starting to hurt, when one girl tugged at me sleeve.

   “Bec!” she gushed like I was her best friend. But I could see it in her eyes, the excitement and happiness. All I could do was smile back. “Oh my god, you’re Bec Lowthorne!” She shrieked with laughter, waving something at me as I was pulled tighter against the gate separating the crowd from us.

   “Can I have a _picture_?” she panted, holding up her camera.

   “Of course,” I said over the screams of everyone else. How weird it felt. Almost like I was famous in my own, even though I wasn’t anything, or anyone. It was just the boys. I smiled as the light flashed in our eyes. She thanked me with a note of hysteria in her voice, just as I felt someone grab my hand.

   I whipped around, thankful to see Louis standing there, nodding towards the other end of the runway whether a car stood ready.

   “LOUIS!” The screams escalated but he waved with a smile, leading me away followed by the rest of the boys.

   Louis yanked the door open and we clambered in messily, Niall shutting the door sharply after us. It was a limousine, the broad luxurious back with seats curving around a central table, illuminated in bright neon lights.

   The five of them let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

   “Well, you seemed just fine,” commented Zayn, stretching out on the leather seats and looking at me. “Taking pictures and everything.”

   “In your element,” smirked Louis.

   “It was exhausting,” I sniped back, “At least I didn’t freeze up or make a mad dash back to the plane.”

   “Did you want to?” asked Liam curiously, mussing up his hair. I shrugged.

   “The fans aren’t bad,” I replied, “The press are worse. But at least none of them called me a whore or anything.”

   “They just don’t know you very well,” simpered Louis, patting my leg.

 

***

 

   Leeds Stadium was absolutely packed, with thousands of hyperventilating teenage girls. I would know, because I was standing in it.

   As soon as the limo pulled up, the five boys were pulled backstage, and separated from me. At first I was a little lost, but Paul sent one of his assistants to escort me to the SoundCheck seats. Luckily, it was pretty dark except for the stage lights so most people wouldn’t recognise me if they counted on it.

   It was ironic that I knew those boys before I had even been to a single one of their concerts.

   Finally the lights dimmed, and instead of everybody shutting up and sitting down, they all go to their feet and started screaming their faces off. Standing in the first row, gazing up, I could hear the magnitude of them. No wonder Louis was going slightly deaf in one ear.

   Up on that stage, with the lights in their eyes singing their hearts out, I was prouder than an average mother. Then came that time of night where they took requests through twitter. There they were, in their true selves, just fooling around like a bunch of idiots that I think I knew.

   When a suggestion came up for singing a cover of a Kings of Leon song, of course they chose Use Somebody. Harry had always liked that song, and they covered in as part of their Up All Night show, so the band already knew it.

   Harry started off, and I instantly recognised how at home he sounded singing rock.

   “ _I’ve been roaming around, I was looking down at all I see…_ ” His voice was strong and loud, his head tilted up and gazing out at the audience he couldn’t even see. “Painted faces fill the places I can’t reach.” There was something special about the way he sang that song.

   “Someone like you with all you know and how you speak,” took over Louis, the sweet biting tone in his voice, “Countless lovers under covers of the street.”

   “You know that I could use somebody…you know that I could use somebody, someone like you.” Their harmonising was pitch perfect as the chorus began. I knew what was coming.

   Niall raised his arms, his guitar hanging around his shoulders as the spotlight focused on him.

   “Off in the night, while you live it up, I’m off to sleep.” Well, there goes my chance or attempt of forgetting about him. I swallowed thickly, staring up at him. For a moment, his eyes fixed at a point in the audience before they dropped. Staring at me. Something rooted itself deep inside my chest, and I couldn’t quite breathe.

   No I _hated_ it. How much I missed him just being him, light and funny and completely who-gives-a-crap. That was Niall I knew and loved. But as he stared at me, singing earnestly, I just couldn’t take my eyes off him. Couldn’t turn away, or brush it off.

   “Waging wars to shake the poet, and the beat. I hope it’s gonna make you notice…I hope it’s gonna make you notice someone like me.” His solo was breathtaking.

   “I’m ready now, I’m ready now…” Liam’s voice was flawless as per usual, as screams escalated. Somehow in that single performance, I was swept away. The boys were meant for each other, how perfectly they mingled and sang together.

   “I’ve been roaming around,” sang Harry finally, closing off the song. He stepped forward, looking straight down at me. Not a good idea, Hazza. “I was looking down…at all I see.” The song finished, his hand still reaching down towards me. The cheering rose again but he didn’t move, just hovering at the edge of the stage, hand extended towards me like he had sung the entire song to me.

   I swallowed and forced me to meet his green eyes. He lowered the microphone with a small smile. He just stood there until Louis came up and nudged him off, sending the crowd insane because they obviously couldn’t enough of their little Larry moments.

   As Louis nudged him away back on stage, he still kept stealing subtle glances at me during the entire concert. It made me smile.

   Finally, they jumped off stage for the last time before coming back on in their formal outfits. God, they looked good; all decked out in white shirts and black pants, looking amazing. They performed a few final numbers, messed about on stage and thanked the massive crowd for an amazing performance. 

   The girls screamed like it was the last time they’d never see them again, though honestly they probably wouldn’t. They disappeared off stage with waves and smiles. At once the lights flickered off and everyone began their mad dash towards the exits.

   The assistant who had escorted me to the SoundCheck popped back up and took me backstage again. Everything was busy, there were people sprinting around even though the concert was already over. I was pushed into a large room, filled with personnel, Paul and the boys sitting at their tables.

   “Bec!” exclaimed Liam, spotting me first, probably looking confused and a little put off. “There you are. How did you find the concert?”

   “Great,” I mumbled as he rocked up, walking me back over to the rest of the boys. “Really, you guys were amazing.”

   “Bec,” slurred out Louis, turning as we approached. Zayn, Liam, Harry and Niall turned around too. “How you doing? Did you enjoy the show?”

   “Yeah,” I replied, nodding, “Especially your guys cover of Use Somebody.”

   “Mm,” smirked Louis, glancing at Haz, “You must have.” Haz looked away distractedly, jiggling his leg. Yeah well, the entire stadium probably noticed too. After Paul tied up a few things, he dismissed us.

   “You guys hop back on the plane to London now, I want you back before midnight for a good’s night rest,” he laboured, flipping a page on his clipboard. “The flight’s at ten thirty tomorrow morning, so Bec it’s best if you say your goodbyes tonight.”

   “Yeah,” I said quickly, “I’ve got exams anyway.”

   “I thought you finished them,” replied Zayn with a frown as the others got up and started getting their stuff. Haz and I exchanged brief glances, and I knew immediately he hadn’t breathed a word of it to the others. Would there be a day when I wouldn’t owe him anything?

   “I flunked out a couple,” I answered breezily, “Just resitting them, that’s why I’ve been studying so hard.”

   “You’ll be fine.”

   There was a tight knot in my stomach caused by undeterminable uncertainty. Like I had left something hanging that I had explicably forgotten to deal with. Apart from Harry.

   The plane trip back was quiet, mostly because the boys were exhausted from the show, they spent it napping. I had to wake them all up as we landed back in Heathrow. Luckily, there hadn’t been a tip off on our landing, so it was a quick walk in the cool night across the runway to the hangar.

   As soon as we crawled back into the car, Zayn huffed tiredly and promptly went on to fall asleep on Liam’s shoulder. Louis swung the door shut behind him and collapsed onto the seat, his eyelids drooping sleepily. In fact, out of all five of them, it seemed like only Niall was half-comprehensive.

   “So where now?” I asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the others.

   “Hey,” said Louis, opening his eyes wearily and squinting at me in the darkness, “I just thought of something we can do. You know, as a farewell thing.” I raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Don’t look at me like that, Bec, it’s nothing outrageous.”

   “What you talking about Lou?” I asked.

   “The fair’s in town,” he commented dozily, sitting up and stretching, “We could go, it’ll still be open but most people would have left by now.”

   “Sounds good, actually,” I said, “I haven’t been to a fair for a while.”

   “Oi, wake Zayn up,” Louis said to Liam, prodding with obnoxiously with his foot. Liam nudged Zayn, who merely grunted and rolled over, nearly falling off his seat if Liam hadn’t grabbed him quickly to stop him from smacking his face into the window.

   “What’s happening?” asked Haz, rubbing his eyes as though he’d just woken up himself.

   “We’re going to the fair, fools,” answered Louis snappishly, “Haz can shout us fairy floss.” Harry grumbled something and stretched lazily.

   “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m wiped,” said Niall, yawning widely.

   “Come on guys,” whined Louis, “It’s our last night here, we’ll be non-stop for six months after this. Last night of freedom.”

   “Last night with Bec, too,” added Liam thoughtfully, aptly not realising how awkward he made the entire situation by mentioning me. “Yeah, let’s go lads.”

   Louis reached over and tapped on the glass between us and the driver’s seat.

   “Hey, can you take us to the fair?” A muffled response returned and the car turned direction, heading closer to the East End of London, where the Thames spanned out wider.

   When we stopped and crawled out, I realised we were on the other side of the Thames, at a small fair alight with Ferris wheels, endless stalls and dodgem cars, marked with a rollercoaster as well. We bought entry tickets and waltzed in. Just as Louis had predicted, it was nearly empty yet not quite closed, meaning we practically had the whole place to ourselves.

   To my surprise, a hand linked through mine nearly making me jump. I glanced down distractedly, before looking up and seeing Haz standing there, staring straight ahead. I had dearly the missed the warmth of his hand and his touch, how they could warm me to my toes.

   “Where first?” asked Zayn gleefully, surprisingly wide awake despite his spontaneous nap in the car. “I reckon the Ferris wheel. You two can go off if you want.”

   Haz’s grip tightened on my hand, and I realised abruptly that Zayn was referring to us as the four of them sprinted off like a bunch of idiots towards the empty Ferris wheel. He tugged my along gently and I followed obediently, not sure where we stood, but I hung around warily just because I was curious.

   He bought me a bag of fairy floss; pink and blue because he remembered I liked both, and smiled. Or at least I think he did. The edges of his mouth tilted up slightly.

   “So,” I said lightly, as we walked slowly around the empty carnival. “Excited about the tour?”

   “Not as much as I would be normally,” he admitted with a shrug, looking down and scuffed the tip of his shoe against the dusty ground. “It always take a while to get back in the swing of things.”

   “Touring, you mean?” I asked. He glanced up, for a split second, that perfectly docile look spread across his face. Then he looked down again, definitely smiling.

   “Yeah,” he chuckled, tucking his free hand into his pocket, while swinging our hands gently back and forth. “Yeah, I meant touring.”

   “What’s so funny?” I asked suspiciously, taking a mouthful of fairy floss and watching him closely.

   “Nothing,” he grinned, still not meeting my eye. I swallowed the sugary stuff and cleared my throat.

   “Haz…”

   “It’s nothing, really,” he assured, looking the other way but the stupid grin was still there. In fact, he looked like he might burst out laughing any second.

   “It’s obviously not nothing,” I retorted, ribbing him with my elbow. “What’s up, Styles?”

   “You.”

   “What?”

   “You’re just…” he trailed off uncertainly, shooting me a tentative glance. “With the fans.”

   “Urgh,” I groaned, burying my face back in the sugar lump. “Is this really about the fans, Haz?”

   “Of course it is,” he replied, “You were great.”

   “I was _not_ , don’t tease me,” I scowled but he shook his head disbelievingly.

   “That’s not all,” he added, “It’s just…I was thinking why this all felt familiar to me, you know?” I frowned, pressing the fairy floss against my tongue and feeling it fizzle and melt.

   “What feels familiar?”

   “I dunno,” he shrugged, “Just…how I feel at the moment. It seems so familiar. Like déjà vu.”

   “So?” I prompted.

   “I realised why I’ve been feeling so down recently,” he sighed, stopping and taking both my hands in his. “I felt just like this when I was leaving Sydney, when I was leaving you.” I gulped thickly. Well, okay then.

   “B…why?” I asked thickly, because they was truly nothing else I could think to say. His eyes locked with mine, those rare green eyes, before he turned and we kept walking, passing a few stalls with competitions to win jumbo soft toys.

   “This tour,” he answered, “It’s gonna be hard without you.”

   “It’s only six months.” He shot me a reproachful look. “Alright, alright. Six months is a while. But seriously, I’ll be the last thing on your mind.” He laughed and shook his head again.

   “Whatever you say, Bec,” he mumbled, letting his curly hair flop over his eyes, before flicking it away distractedly. For some reason, it annoyed me that he’d just brush it off like that.

   “No, really,” I said impatiently, “What do you mean?”

   “After everything?” he asked disbelievingly, eyebrows raised. “I only left Sydney because I was too blind to realise that I was leaving you, maybe forever. I shouldn’t have gone. But then you came here, and I swear I promised I wouldn’t let you leave again.”

   “Are you crazy?” I demanded, before I burst out laughing. He looked a little taken aback, but I couldn’t help but laughing. “Je- Haz, don’t…oh god, you’re so _dumb_. I’m not going anywhere.”

   “Oi,” he said, slightly flustered from me laughing at him, prodding me with his finger on my shoulder irritably. “Someone’s a hypocrite.”

   “A _hypocrite_?”

   “Do I have to remind you where you’d be shipped off to in two months’ time if I hadn’t bullied it out of you?” he shot back and I pressed my lips together tightly. He smirked triumphantly. “Oh, now she remembers.”

   “But I’ll still be here in six months’ time,” I said earnestly as the Ferris Wheel came back into view and we slowed down, looking up and watching the four ride around in circles whooping their heads off and rocking their seats back and forth, teetering dangerously over the black velvet water.

   “I know you’ll still be here,” he sighed, “But we…” My heart tripped over itself when he said those words. Had he been thinking the same thing I had? That somehow if something wasn’t tied up now, that in six months, we’d just be two strangers again?

   I willed myself to fix what I could, when I knew full well I could fix next to nothing.

   “We’ll be fine,” I said quietly, taking his hand and he looked down at me, first with a small frown, before the edges of his lips raised slightly and he pressed his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes, feeling my skin tingle at his touch.

   “Haz!” shrieked Louis, tumbling off his Ferris wheel seat next to Zayn and stumbling across towards us. “You’re my next ride buddy.”

   “It’s alright Z,” I said, letting go off Haz’s hand, almost wincing at the biting cold it felt without his palm pressed against mine, before going over and joining Zayn. “I’ll be your next ride buddy.”

  “I call shots on picking the next ride!” yelled Liam from above and we all craned our necks to see him and Niall swinging back on forth in their seat while the ride conductor frowned, obviously disgruntled.

   As soon as the two of them got off, Liam turned and pointed at the largest ride there was, illuminated with small lights lining the tracks, spinning off across the water, high above the rest of us.

   “You’re joking,” spat out Zayn contemptuously, “No _way_ Liam, I’m not going on that.”

   “Wimp!” teased Louis, poking Zayn. “Come on, I’ve always wanted to go on a rollercoaster at night.” Liam and Niall were already skipping over, making crazy noises and I wondered vaguely if they were drunk or high. It wouldn’t even surprise me.

   “I’ll be _sick_ ,” said Zayn indignantly. “Sorry, no go for me.”

   “So what, the lady has to sit by herself?” demanded Louis, “Where are your manners, Zayn?”

   “Truthfully, I reckon Bec would rather go on solo then have me throw up on her.”

   “He’s right, Lou,” I laughed, tugging at Louis’ hand, “Let’s go, aye? He can watch and be jealous.”

   “ _Why_?” muttered Zayn, “Jealous of you guys making your tummies clench when you have a massive drop? Or possibly flying off the carriage and rocketing into the Thames?”

   “Yes!” shot back Louis as he pulled me along, sprinting after Liam and Niall towards the looming coaster. Just as soon as Harry was out of ear shot, Louis yanked me closer to him and hissed my ear, “What the _hell_ is going on with you two?” I jerked back, shocked.

   “What?” I asked, bewildered. He opened his mouth, before snapping it shut and shaking his head. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Harry appeared behind us in the line, so Louis shut up quickly.

   The five of us, minus Zayn, crawled into the tiny carriage waiting on the tracks. Harry climbed in next to me, and Louis sat behind us by himself, obviously not wanting to make a fuss out of it.

   The cart lurched forward and started to chug noisily along the tracks. Niall, Liam and Louis started whooping loudly and I couldn’t help but laugh, tossing a careless glance over at Haz, who was watching me rather closely. I lowered my arms, which I’d been waving around in the air like an idiot, and looked at him.

   “You alright, Haz?” I asked.

   “I’m fine,” he replied, looking away. “If I start screaming, you’ll have to slap me though.”

   “What?” I choked with laughter.

   “He gets carried away when he’s terrified,” Louis said factually over my shoulder. “He might try to jump out halfway or take a bite from your arm.” Haz glanced over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at Louis.

   “You’re no different, you-”

   A long continuous scream made the three of us start, as we glanced forward to see Niall and Liam perched up in their seats, hands thrown straight in the air, yelling their heads off like a murder was approaching them with an axe.

   The cart tilted forward, and Haz, Louis and I realised a moment too late. Being caught off guard on a rollercoaster is one of the worst and best things possible. While Niall and Liam had a clear view of what was coming up ahead, the three of us up back were clinging on for dear life, wincing and screaming and trying not to kill each other.

   We jerked from side to side, before taking a gravity defying drop so fast my stomach actually felt like it disappeared for a moment. Screams echoed in the night air, as one of my hands clawed out for his. I grasped it, holding it like it was my life line.

   Haz’s expression was worth it though. Priceless. He was trying to buffer the impact of the cold air on his face, the speed of the coaster and the shock horror of the entire ride. It resulted in a flinch, eye twitch and his mouth thrown into a wide O.

   I tried to catch another breath to laugh my head off at him.

   By the time the cart grinded to a lazy stop at the exit, Niall and Liam were still whooping excitedly, Louis looked like he still in brief shock, and I had to crawl over Haz’s lap and pull him out before he stumbled over down the exit steps and rolled along the dusty ground.

   The others laughed, watching him roll around more for the fun of it than actually from forgetting how to work his legs out and use them again. Zayn looked a little miffed from missing out, but he got to choose the next ride- the Dodgems.

   I leant down, brushing the dust off Haz’s jeans. I extended my hand to his cautiously.

   “Come on,” I grunted, as he grasped it and I heaved him up slowly. God he was heavy. “Up you get, Braveheart.”

   “No poking fun at me,” he scowled stumbling up, his arm around my shoulders.

   “Not my problem you’re still a pussy under all those layers of man fat,” I snickered as we walked slowly across the park, following the others.

   “Man fat!” he huffed indignantly. “That’s _muscle_ if I have to remind you.”

   “I doubt it,” I chuckled, “It’s man fat, Haz, it jiggles like half-set jelly.”

   “If that’s the definition of fat, then I’m a bag of it,” he shot back boldly, making me choke up slightly before laughing.

   “Nah,” I said after a while, watching the others stop outside the Dodgems and talk to the guy running it. “You ain’t fat after all, Hazza. I mean, you do push ups in the morning, so at least some of that shit in your arms might be muscle.”

   “I do five push ups,” he panted, brushing the front of his shirt with his free hand. “It’s actually all genetics.”

   “That’s right, thank your father.”

   “Who said I was thanking my _dad_?” he demanded and I nudged him, clearly forgetting he was still highly unstable. He fell over, bringing me crashing down with him. Laughing, he sat up gasping slightly, brushing his hands over my face protectively.

   “Ouch, you hurt?” he asked, adjusting my face from side to side to check for any signs of damage.

   “Nah, I’m right,” I chuckled, pushing myself into a sitting position.

   “Good,” he said, patting my cheek and shoving me off him. I toppled off and rolled onto the dusty ground as he sat up with a grunt.

   “You guys coming, or what?” asked Louis, gesturing over his shoulder as he approached us warily, sitting out of breath in the dust. “The guy said one last go, but I think I’ll just watch.”

   “Yeah, me too,” I said with a sigh, pushing myself unsteadily to my feet. “I don’t think my stomach can handle another nerve jerker.”

   “Haz? What about you?”

   “Nah,” he said staggering to his feet and glancing away. “I think I might just…” He trailed off thoughtfully, before glancing at me. “Call me over when you guys are done.” I watched him slightly confused, as he wandered off, hands tucked in his pockets.

   Louis and I turned around to watch as Zayn, Niall and Liam drove around recklessly in their dodgems, jerking as they slammed into each other. Our arms were perched against the metal gate, the bright fairy lights dancing in our eyes, circus music ringing quietly in our ears.

   “So,” he said eventually, “Are you and Haz gonna pull another freakish stunt with the four of us?”

   “What?” I said, staring at him in surprise. He just wiggled his eyebrows at me annoyingly. “Urgh, don’t do that.”

   “Well,” he replied, turning so his back leant against the gate. “You two always spring a surprise on us at the worst time possible.”

   “So what, this is a bad time?” I shot back.

   “Honestly,” he chortled, “It’s the worst time I could imagine at the moment. I mean, whatever mess you two manage to leave yourselves will be the exact same in six months’ time.”

   “Six months is too long.”

   “Debatable,” he sniggered, and I punched him in the shoulder. “Ow!” He rubbed is sorely, turning to face me again. “Don’t mess this up, Bec.”

   “Why are you four _always_ forever preaching to me?” I demanded crossly, “Just go and have a go at him, he’s your best mate anyway.”

   “Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Louis, rolling his eyes, “We all know that there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll listen to us when it comes to you. He does what he wants.”

   “Yet everyone’s under the impression that I’ll listen too?”

   “Well, a slightly higher chance,” he admitted with a shrug, hand still on his shoulder protectively. “Can you promise me something then, at least? So if you break it you have _something_ to lose.”

   “Really?” I asked disbelievingly, “You think me breaking a promise to you means I have something to lose?”

   “You’re seriously not helping your case,” answered Louis, rolling his eyes again. “Can you try though? Promise us _not_ to do something stupid or create drama or leave it hanging on a fight?”

   “Yeah,” I sighed, glancing away. “Yeah I suppose, Lou.”

   “Here,” said Louis sticking his hand out and jiggling it infront of my face insistently. “Shake on it.” I raised my eyebrows but he continued to eye me beadily. Giving in, I grasped his hand and shook it firmly.

   “I promise.”

   “Now go,” he said, nudging me, before waving his arms around wildly. “Go and run to him.”

   “Sorry?” I laughed. Louis pointed over out to where Haz had wandered, and now he sat as a silhouette on the pier looking over the water.

   “Sitting like that is solitude practically begging for your company,” he pointed out, “Go!” Shaking my head with a small smile, I walked off towards Haz. My shoes clicked against the wooden pier, but he didn’t turn around. I eventually stood next to him, looking out at the black velvet river ahead of us.

   He sat, leaning back on his arms, swinging his legs slowly back and forth. With a sigh, I sat down beside him and stared out ahead. It was like we were back in Hackney Downs again. I glanced at him, but he still didn’t react at all.

   Grudgingly enough, I admitted Louis had to be right. Him and I- it was almost instinct to destroy something when we were on the edge of change. Gently, I reached out and pushed the hair out of his eyes. He moved slightly, only to brush his forehead against my fingertips, still without looking at me.

   I watched him sadly.

   “Harry,” I said quietly, yet he still didn’t acknowledge me. I dropped my hand to and shuffled closer, sitting cross legged next to him. “Are you _sure_ you’re alright? You seem a bit…”

   Why did I always dig myself holes I knew I couldn’t get out of? I bit my lip as he finally looked at me with those hypnotising green eyes.

   “Sure, I’m great,” he replied in a falsely bright tone, “Just knackered. We’re gonna need a good lot of sleep to get through tomorrow I reckon.” The awkward silence resumed between us, me again finding myself unable to say what I had to.

   “What about,” I began and he glanced at me. Immediately, I felt the slim ray of confidence fizzle out. I shut my mouth tightly, before adding, “Us?” Yeah, just leave it to him to figure that one out. He cocked his head and turned back to the river.

   “What about us?”

   Oh, I should have known.

   “That…thing. In the club,” I stammered. “About the two of us being…”

   “It doesn’t matter,” he cut across me quickly, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

   Well that certainly wasn’t I wanted to hear. I wanted him to what, try ask me again? Well there were several things wrong with that. For one, he already had gone through so much and instigated everything, and I was just being a wimp about it. And the tour- _six_ months apart, even I said yes, what difference would that make?

   “You- you sure?” I tried pathetically. Well that question already answered itself. He looked at me, and gave me a tight smile, before nodding.

   “Yeah,” he sighed, holding his arm out and signalling me closer. “Come ‘ere, Bec.” I smiled as I shuffled closer so we were cuddled right up. I could feel the warmth of his embrace, one arm around my shoulders as I leant my head on his shoulder.

   I could smell the husk of his skin, and honestly all I wanted to do was bury my face in his chest and go to sleep, just forgetting all our problems.

   “Harry?”

   “Yes?” he sighed tiredly, obviously exhausted with me.

   “Never mind.”

   “You’re an annoying shit sometimes, you know?” he ribbed and I chuckled.

   “I know,” I admitted. “Tomorrow…”

   “You’ve got your exams,” he said quickly and I nodded immediately. “Good luck, you’ll be fine. Just don’t fail, I don’t want all my effort spiralling down the drain.”

   “Don’t worry,” I answered, “I actually studied this time instead of clubbing the day before.”

   “I can’t believe you sat your first semesters with a two day hangover,” he chortled disbelievingly and I elbowed him in the side irritably.

   “Dickhead.” He sighed and I did too, as we took in the glittering city opposite the body of water, lazily flowing along. “By the way, get me something when you’re on tour, eh?”

   “What do you want?” he asked, glancing at me. For some stupid reason, I could hear Niall yelling at me again. My eye twitched, but he pretended not to notice.

   “Anything,” I answered, “I don’t care if it’s just a cheapie touristy souvenir from a two dollar store.”

   “Good,” he huffed, “Cos I’m getting you a cheapie touristy souvenir from a two dollar store.”

   “You don’t…seem that excited,” I said slowly. “About tour, that is.”

   “It takes a while to get it into my system,” he answered objectively, “But by the time I’m used to it again, it’s like the tour’s already finished.”

   “I forgot to say. Congrats with the new song,” I answered, “I don’t know what it’s called but I heard it hit number one in USA and the album’s already gone platinum. Management must be freaking genius.”

   “Which song?”

   “Oh I’m sorry,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, “Seeing as all your songs have already hit number one over there, I’ll have to specify. The campfire one.”

   He frowned at me.

   “Campfire?” I smacked my forehead.

   “Damn, I forgot,” I said, “You were lying incapacitated in the caravan on your deathbed, my bad. The one with Niall’s solo in the bridge.”

   “Oh,” he said quickly, “Yeah. It’s called Left of Me.” Truthfully, I didn’t know if that was the stupidest or the saddest name I could think of for it.

   “Well, everyone seems to be blasting it in their radios.”

   “We’re singing it on tour anyway,” he replied and I leant my head back down on his shoulder. “Honestly, it makes me sad.”

   “The song?”

   “Would you cry if you listened to it when you were in a really bad mood?”

   “’s not funny,” he mumbled, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.  “Probably, though.” I leant back, regarding him warily and he shot me an unexpected wide smile, which made my heart leap. Sometimes, I forgot how he truly made me feel.

   “I’ll miss you,” I said, the words slipping from my mouth before I could stop them. He blinked, the smile turning into something sweeter as his gaze dropped to the pier we were sitting on. I stretched my legs out, hanging over the edge.

   “Yeah,” he said quietly, with a tight smile, scratching the wooden planks distractedly. “Part of me doesn’t want to go. Not without you, anyway.”

   I didn’t even know what to say to that. Yes, part of me didn’t want him to go either, but that was selfish. He had to go. This was his life, his career, his voice.

   “Harry?”

   “Mm?”

   “Would it be forward,” I said, ruffling my hair absent-mindedly. “If I said that I wanted to kiss you?” He widened his eyes, laughter dancing in them. He leant back onto his elbows, watching me closely.

   “Well,” he said, struggling to keep the amusement out of his eyes. “Personally, I don’t think so.”

   “No?”

   “Nah.”

   “Good,” I said, looking back out over the water. The silence was so empty I could hear the excitable whoops of the others behind us in the distance over the hill. He made a noise and I glanced down at him. His hands were opened expectantly, eyebrows raised, mouth hanging open disbelievingly.

   “Seriously?” he choked out, laughing hoarsely, struggling to sit up. “You’re just gonna leave me hanging like that?”

   “I’m not…”

   “Despite everything,” he chuckled, one of his hands tucking my hair behind my ear and resting on my cheek. “You’ve still got the balls to be a tease.”

   “Tease…!” I shot out, but he pressed his lips against mine, I felt the protests I had already prepared, fall short and disappear, slipping off my shoulders like water. I shifted to my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands held my waist, gently tugging me closer to him.

   When I pulled away, we were both breathless. Urgh, why did I ever stop doing this? His eyes were close to mine, so I could every little speckle of colour in them. But there was something else in them this time, something I couldn’t quite place until I unravelled my arms from him and leant back.

   “I’ll miss you too, Bec.”

   Sadness.

   It was the same crushing guilt and sadness I felt as I stood infront of the five of them and said goodbye. From then it was just a blur of hugs, kisses and stupid things they said, their faces swimming in my eyes and my realisation that I wouldn’t see them for a half a year, until the time I was in Liam’s car.

   I sighed as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and buckled myself in. Liam hopped into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the gravelly car park. The others waved as we drove away. As Liam started driving back onto the main road back to North London, I couldn’t help let that sadness and regret come flooding back to me. I propped my arm up on the windowsill and leant my head against it.

   I sniffled miserably. No, I wasn’t sulking or crying. It just really _sucked_.

   “Bec?” asked Liam quietly. “You right?” I thought for a moment.

   “No,” I said flatly. “No, I’m not right.” In hindsight, I was doing the exact of what Louis had asked of me. Keep it clean and sweet, no complications of unsaid meanings. But Louis’ concern was the last thing on my mind.

   “Is this another Harry thing?” Liam asked, as he turned, his hands expertly spinning the wheel. Well at least I had a smaller chance of being in a car crash with him driving me home.

   And it was always assumed it was about _Harry_ wasn’t it? What about the times when it actually wasn’t him? I mean this time it was, but that was beside the point.

   “Sort of,” I replied dismissively, not sure how comfortable I felt talking to Liam about it. Him and I barely talked about my boy problems, mostly because I knew how skewed any sort of opinion he’d have would be. Towards the reasonable option, always, even if that option was totally ridiculous. And yes, in most cases, that reasonable option was his best friend.

   “Why can’t you two just… sort out your problems once and for all?” he inquired, squinting as we approached the lights of London on the highway. Shadows were cast across our faces, with the distant lights of the toll booths dancing in our eyes. “It just seems like you make it all so hard.”

   “Not on purpose,” I said quickly, a little ruffled. “There are just too many to think about dealing with. Especially now.”

   “What, right before tour?” asked Liam and I nodded confirmingly. “Bec, seriously I couldn’t think of a better time to let it all settle down.” Silence rolled out monotonously, but I was busy overthinking everything as usual. What if Liam was right- I had just let my last chance to solve our issues slip away? And when he got back… _everything_ we had gone through- would there even be a point anymore?

   My arm slipped from the window sill and i drew my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly against me. All that regret and second thinking was now a bubbling mixture in my stomach. It tasted like despair.

   To think that maybe I could have grown some balls and stuck my hand up for us, but instead I walked away- from him and everything else. And after the tour he’d be different, I’d be different, he’d probably forget all the things he’d done, forgot how we felt for each other. Worse, I’d probably forget myself.

   “Liam,” I bleated in a weak, plaintive voice. I sounded, like a child. He looked at me, concern in his watch. I stared back at him, crumbling. I opened my mouth and let the words tumble out without thought. “Liam, I don’t know what to do.”

   I think I saw pity in his eyes.

   “Bec, you always know what to do.”

   I chortled humourlessly before burying my face in my arms. Did I really? Since _when_ did I give anyone the impression that I knew what the heck I was doing with myself? And looking back at my past choices, I couldn’t agree.

   “No,” I mumbled. “Not now, Liam.”

   “What changed?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Bec, where did it all go wrong?” Such deep, pressing questions I didn’t even know the answers to myself.

   “I want to be with him,” I said plainly. “He _asked_ me to be with him, and what did I do? I stepped on him again, like I’ve done with all his advances even though I’ve wanted him all along.”

   “Why did you do it then?”

   “Because…” I trailed off, propping my chin on my arms. “I think I just wanted him to fight for me. Not like all those other girls who he could just snap his fingers and get.”

   “Maybe that’s why he wanted you so much,” pointed out Liam evenly. “You weren’t like them.”

   “So that’s why he pined after me for so long, uselessly?” I demanded, “Because he enjoyed the chase? After the fighting, when I had him, suddenly it wasn’t enough.”

   “For who? Him…or you, Bec?”

   I stopped, and realised what he was implying. Or inferring. Or whatever. I was more concentrated on the fact that he might have been right. I had always been enough for _him_. But when I had him, I acted like he wasn’t enough for _me_ , just because I was a selfish, two-minded idiot.

   “He,” I got out, attempting to sit up straighter while still clinging to my knees like a life line. “Liam, he doesn’t want me anymore.”

   “What on _earth_ are you talking about?” he demanded, shaking his head. “Are you still in denial from the entire messy Emma, Holmes Chapel, etc. stuff?”

   “You forgot Zayn.” He flinched. “I’m not in denial, Li. This is different.”

   “I don’t know if it is, Bec,” he sighed, “You always complain about him pouting like a child every time he doesn’t get what he wants- which is you. And yeah, he went and did some pretty stupid stuff. But what about you? Looking back, haven’t you done some stuff you’d regret too?”

   I chewed my lip, deep in thought. We pulled up at the toll booth, Liam handed over a few coins and we passed through. He wound up his window and chilling rush of the night air disappeared.

  “Maybe he deluded himself into thinking he wanted me,” I voiced. “But not anymore. Now my chance is gone.”

   “Seriously,” huffed Liam, “Bec, what’s gotten into you? What did he ever say to make you think that?”

   “I kissed him on the pier,” I said in the smallest voice possible, and at once Liam fell silent. “He just…didn’t react. I kissed him and he just stared at me sadly and said he’d miss me. Could the message be _any_ clearer? He doesn’t _want_ me anymore, Liam.”

   He stared ahead, his fingers tapping the steering wheel, before he snorted abruptly, catching me off guard.

   “You…I don’t know how he can put up with you,” he said, shaking his head disbelievingly. “Didn’t you think for a second Bec, you’re way too close to it all? Maybe you just need to take a step back.”

   “And what, just forget about him?” I demanded, “I wish I could, Li. But you guys are going on tour, so what’s the point anyway?”

   “What do you mean, ‘what’s the point?’?” he asked, “Bec, you two have been at each other’s necks, on and off and who knows what for seven months now. I don’t remember the last time you two weren’t in some sort of ridiculous situation. I think you just need a breather.”

   “I don’t _want_ a breather,” I moaned, “I want _him_. Harry.”

   “Bec, he’s just so tired.”

   “Yeah, he is,” I agreed, “Tired of putting up with me. He’s probably realised by now he shouldn’t have bothered to waste his time chasing me. That’s why he’s just given up, and why I was stupid enough to let him.”

   “Do you want to be with him?”

   “Yes.” I blurted the words without another thought. “But six months apart means everything changes. Now I’ve said goodbye, and when you guys get back, him and I’ll be strangers again. It’s not like we can just pick up where we left off.”

   “Tell him how you feel.”

   “He _knows_ how I feel,” I replied but he cut across me sharply.

   “I mean about you wanting to be his girlfriend,” he reiterated. “Thinking about it, you two have practically gone everywhere except to actually go out as a couple.” I thought for a moment again, as we approached the university.

   “But it’s too bloody late for that, All because I’m a proud idiot, who’s too stupid to realise what I had before its gone.”

   “Too late?” he said quietly as we arrived outside the campus gates. “Bec, it’s never too late.” I swallowed as he pressed his lips to my forehead gently and brushed my hair out of my eyes. I reached over and squeezed him in a tight hug, clinging to the warmth of friendship in his embrace.

   I leant back, unbuckled myself from the seat and crawled out.

   “I’ll see you in six months, Liam,” I said quietly, managing a small smile. “You guys have fun.”

   “We will,” he assured, nodding.

   “I’ll miss you,” I mumbled, sniffling but quickly rubbing my nose to brush it off. “Tell him I still love him, eh?”

   “I don’t have to. He’s already there, Bec.” I stood back as Liam drove off, waving goodbye.

   At that moment, standing on the cement foot walk, at last my numb skin felt the biting cold of the air. More than that, I felt more alone than I had in a long time. Those boys. Gone, for months on end. And the thought of Harry was seriously in danger of making me tear up, because I was about emotionally unstable as possible at the moment.

   I could still hear Liam’s calm, soothing voice in my mind.

   _Bec, you always know what to do._

_For who? Him…or you?_

_It’s never too late._

_I don’t have to, he’s already there._

   Maybe he was right. About one thing or another. But in cold breathless April nights in London, I was still lost. I didn’t know what to do with myself, and I realised I wouldn’t see any of their faces again for endless days.

   Not Liam with his assurance, or Zayn with his cheeky smile, or Louis and his prissy humour, or Niall- even though he might hate me, I couldn’t help but still be weak for him with those soft eyes, or Harry who drove me completely around the bend, and all of everything between us was just pointless banter, I still cared for him.

   I shoved my numbs hands into my pocket and exhaled deeply, a cloud of vapour forming infront of my face. I ducked my head, my thoughts focussed on tomorrow. Yeah, my exams. Who even cared about them anymore? I didn’t. But I knew Harry would kill me if I flunked them again. Then their departure. I wouldn’t even be there to see that.

   I wouldn’t be there for anything, but I wish I could’ve rewound to that night in the club with my arms around his neck, so confident and alive in that moment. Why hadn’t I said yes?

   I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

   Too bad, Bec. Too bloody bad.


	29. One Thing

_Present Day  
late-April, 2013_

 

  
  
   Normally, I move at the average rate of a decrepit turtle with back problems.

   But get some adrenalin pumping around the bloodstream and suddenly I’m motherfucking Usain Bolt.

   “There’s still time, you know.” I shot a moody glance at Tian who was standing in her pyjamas on the front lawn of the admin centre, hair still up in rollers, looking completely relaxed.

   “Remind why you’re here again.”

   “You _asked_ me, bitch,” she shot back immediately, and I realised how different she’d been when she was around James. Like a different person entirely. The burst of old Tian from behind the fading mask almost made me smile, before promptly making me feel like throwing up. Then again, that was probably just the result of my compulsive need to throw up at the moment.

   “No, I meant why like _this_?” I asked, gesturing at her clothes, and I noticed my hand was trembling.

   “Oh,” she said, glancing carelessly at her attire. “I dunno. Guess your shitty influence is rubbing off on me.”

   “Nice to know.” She squinted at me, as though thoroughly analysing me. I almost felt self-conscious. “What?”

   “There’s still time, yo-” she began, but I threw my hands up in exasperation as the doors to the exam hall opened.

   “I heard you the first time!” I cried, unable to help the despairing tone creep into my voice.

   “No!” she shot back, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me aggressively. “No, Bec, you _didn’t_ hear me. You might have listened, but you didn’t hear.”

   “W-” I began, slightly confused. I glanced over my shoulder, at the other students filing in. “Ti, I’ve gotta go.” She didn’t loosen her grip on my shoulders, but gave me another vigorous shake. “Ow!”

   “I’m just hoping something in that brain of yours,” she said, jabbing me in the head rather painfully. I rubbed the spot woefully. “Clicks into place. That it all just… _works_.”

   “My brain’s working fine,” I said indignantly, hesitating slightly on whether to make a mad dash to the door and risk disembowelment from Tian or not.

   “Yeah, maybe,” she said with a shrug, “But what about here?” Gentler than before, she prodded my chest. I blinked at her, and immediately tried to joke it off.

   “I don’t have breast cancer either.”

   She scowled moodily and shook her wild hair.

   “He’s waiting for you,” she said accusingly, fingers curling tighter around my shoulders. I stared at her. It seemed like this very morning, I could remember every great moment and every momentous day that I had experienced since I had come to London.

   The bar fight with Louis and James Logan.   
   Crying on Niall.   
   The days after the passing storm.   
   Lakyn at his gig.   
   Harry and his stupid necklace, hands extended towards me with a small smile as I watched him latch it around my neck.   
   Boxing Day kisses in cafés with Niall.   
   Awkward affection with Liam.   
   Harry grumbling in his sleep.   
   Secrets under the sheets with Zayn.   
   Louis laughing at me, _all_ the time.   
   Hackney Downs with Harry.

   Harry, Harry. There he was, always popping up with that stupid smile with those dimples, even that stupid nose and permanent sex hair. Unavoidable. A bit like the Black Plague, though thankfully he didn’t make me erupt into black boils.

   But here I was, nearly five months since I had moved to London, feeling like I was pressing restart all over again. The worst part was, I didn’t want it all to happen again. I needed _this_ , and I needed this _now_.

   “No,” I said quietly, disentangling myself from her grip. “Ti, you don’t get it. He stopped waiting.” She stared at me, then her face split into an idiotic grin.

   “Divvy!” she crowed loudly, laughing as the people around us turned to stare. Affronted, I shoved her slightly only making her laugh louder. “Look Bec, if I’ve ever seen a boy look at someone so stupidly, it’s with him.”

   I tried to think of when Tian might have ever seen Harry look at me when I glanced over to see the instructor at the door hovering uncertainly.

   “Shit, I have to…” I cursed, scooping my bag up and turning to go, yet hesitating at the last moment. I _wanted_ her to understand, but how could I when I was still trying to convince myself what I was doing was the right thing? “I have to do this, Ti. It’s for my…my-”

   “Future?” she finished after I stammered a bit pathetically. I grasped onto it.

   “Yes!” I blurted quickly, “It’s my future. He’d- I mean, they’d _understand_ … right?”

   “He’d understand for you,” she sighed, shaking her head, before stepping forward and hugging me tightly. “Good luck, babe.”

   I hugged her back, still hesitant. I turned and walked, my legs feeling like they were made of Jell-O. It was like I had been drinking already, I couldn’t even walk in a straight line. At the last moment when I hovered at the door to the exam hall, I whipped around to see her still watching me.

   I was pretty sure I was becoming so nervous that soon she’d have to shove me through the door to go through. Just as well though, because the man finally had enough and swung the door shut. I squawked out in protest and jumped forward, just entering as it slammed shut behind me.

   Everyone in the room was seated already, staring at me expectantly. Shakily, I walked towards the empty seat in the back, sitting down and fidgeting uncomfortably. Inevitably I couldn’t help but let my thoughts stray to the boys. Where were they now? At the airport already? The thought of it made me sick.

   The paper was slapped down infront of me and I stared at it. The words were just blurs in my eyes. No, I thought, shaking my head persistently. God _no…_

   “I can’t,” I whispered and the guy sitting next to me stared at me like I’d just sprouted an extra arm. I looked at him, then around at the room which was so deathishly quiet that they’d heard me. The examiner seemed unaware, however. My mouth stuttered open as my eyes darted around, daring myself to say those words louder. “I- I can’t.”

   This time, the examiner heard. He looked up and i bit my lip.

   “Sorry?”

   “I can’t,” I gasped, yanking my bag off the ground and springing out of my seat, my legs seeming as though they already knew where they were going. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” I ran, my ankle wedges clacking against the floor as I shoved the doors open, determination abruptly filling my blood.

   It wasn’t too late. As bloody Liam Payne had said himself, it was _never_ too late.

   I burst out onto the lawn again, feeling much freer. Tian had disappeared from sight, obviously not hanging around to wait. I checked my phone. 9:33 a.m. Their flight was at ten o’clock. Shit, shit, _shit_. How the heck was I supposed to get to Heathrow Airport in less than half an hour?

   I sprinted across the university lawn like a freaking mad man, waving my arm around to hail a cab.

   “Heathrow,” I puffed as I crawled inside, “As fast as you can please. Heathrow Airport.” The taxi driver just rose his eyebrows and pulled into gear. I was sitting in the back seat the entire time, half-stressing that it was all for nothing, bailing on my exam to go after them and- what would I do then? What was the plan?

   I knew what I had to do. The question was if I had the guts to do it. Or, I thought, as I stared out the window, if I had _time_ to do it. I checked my watch distractedly again, nearly crying when I saw the time. Nice, just to have a brief emotional breakdown in the backseat of a cab during peak hour.

   9:51 a.m. Nine minutes. Nine mother freaking minutes, there was no _way_ I would make it. I stared out the window glumly, my hopes withering into shreds. I grabbed my phone, suddenly struck with inspiration. I dialed Louis’ number. Straight to voicemail.

   “Louis!” I screeched in the phone, “Don’t you _dare_ leave, you, you- _please_ just wait if you get this! I’ll be there in five, just wait, if you get on that plane, I will slit your throat in your sleep, git!” I hung up, wrenched the door open and took off down the street, filled with cars lining up to try reach Heathrow.

   In hindsight, wearing heels was a terrible idea. I leaned over, unbuckled them and swung them over my shoulder, running barefoot through the traffic towards the departure terminal. I wondered what I must have looked like to anyone else waiting patiently in their car; sprinting down the street without any shoes on, sobbing loudly.

   To be honest, I had given up caring. By the time I reached the terminal, I had two minutes left. Two fucking minutes. I had short of breath, and I could see the swarm of fans everywhere. I shoved my shoes into someone’s chest and yelped at her about keeping them as I squished my way through security and tore away towards the gate.

    Number 56. Gate number 56. Bloody 56, where the _fuck_ was it? I was wheezing, and I think my lungs had shriveled up into things that looked like wrinkly brown paper bags. Leaning on my knees, I realised it was too late. I stumbled blindly over and collapsed into one of those uncomfortable metallic airport seats next to an old lady who looked terrified.

   But the boys? They were probably gone, and I had missed my last chance for the next half year.

   That’s when I heard it.

   “- _final call for departure at Gate 56 to Los Angeles, final call. All boarding._ ” My eyes widened in realisation. No. _No_.

   “Yes!” I screamed, and the old lady made a disgusted noise as I sprung to my bare feet and ran like I was being chased by a horde of Olympic zombies. Only this time, it was to some _one_. As I turned a corner, I saw the sign.

   “ _All boarding, gates closing, Gate 56_.” I wanted to yell out, but my throat was so dry, and my breath was so completely wrecked I couldn’t get out the words. I saw the woman moving to close the doors just as I ran into the departure lounge.

   “No, no, no, hold the gates!” I shrieked. She looked up, bemused to say the least. The five of them were standing there, passports in hands with their boarding passes, staring at me in shock as though they didn’t know if I was really there or not.

   Sure, I was standing there, having half run to Heathrow without any shoes on, probably bright red in the face telling them to stop, when really I should be in the exam hall re-sitting my tests all over again. But all I could think of was the boy standing infront of me, eyes wide in surprise.

   It took a moment to catch my breath, but as soon as I did, I began to walk over. Slowly, I began to speed up until I was running. And Tian had been right, despite her mad rants. He’d been waiting. I was sprinting as I collided into his arms and spun me upwards, leaving me even more breathless than that mile-long sprint had.

   I kissed him, clinging to him because I was so determined not to let him go. Like he might slip away if I didn’t. But I clung to him and he clung back, so there I wanted to cry in relief. There was something in his embrace as I locked my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, like suddenly all the doubts we’d have over each other had disappeared.

   I was only half aware of Louis hooting and Zayn cat-calling, along with Niall’s cackle and Liam’s excessive hushing. I pulled away, now certain I was bright red. His mouth hung open, and I could tell he was trying to stammer his way into saying it again. I wouldn’t let him.

   I pressed my finger to his lips.

   “Harry Styles, you complete _idiot_ , will you just be my boyfriend?”

   He stared at me, wonder spreading across his face. For a moment, I was suddenly terrified he’d say no, but as soon as that smirk tugged on his lips, I knew I had pulled out the old Harry from the wreck of all that shit that had happened before.

   Slowly, I released my death-like grip on him. I’d somehow done it, despite the madness of the entire situation. The massive relief lifted from my shoulders, and it was like I could breathe again.

   “You forgot _please_ ,” he pointed out and I had to laugh as I kissed him again, his curly hair tickling my forehead. I squirmed, and giggled as I pulled away.

   “Please.” He regarded in mock thoughtfulness.

   “Yeah, aight,” he grumbled, “Might as well having something to come home to in six months.”

   “Twat,” I grinned.

   “Bec, I-I thought,” he began seriously, but I shook my head.

   “Forget it,” I replied firmly, “Cos let’s face it, I’m a twat too.”

   “Sounds good to me,” he laughed breathily, kissing me again. Urgh, I thought happily, I would _never_ get sick of this.

   “Oh my god you two!” Louis’ voice interrupted us, “Didn’t I say _not_ to leave it on something scandalous? Are you _seriously_ getting together literally the minute before we board the plane- like actually, _literally_?”

   “Shut up Louis,” we both said in unison, eyes still fixed on each other.

   “So this is for real?” he asked quietly as the other boys started to file through. Zayn and Liam disappeared with a wave, and Louis pulled a face at me over Haz’s shoulder. Only Niall remained as the lady dealt with his passport.

   “Yeah,” I said quietly, somehow feeling distracted by his presence. Oh _Niall_ … “Yeah, Haz, I promise. This time, it’s for real.”

   As I looked away, I caught his gaze; our eyes locking. I thought I knew those blue eyes yet every time I looked into them, I found an unexpected tweak I’d never expect. I didn’t want him to find any, no matter how deep rooted they were, because I knew myself they were there.

   It wasn’t a matter about hurting him anymore, because he’d said it, he didn’t even care. Maybe we’d still be friends when he got back, but regardless, things would have changed, and we’d out of sync like two completely new people.

   But Harry? I thought as I smiled up at his face, trying to push the thought of Niall from my mind. No with Harry, I had made sure would still be here. I had found him and asked him to take my hand, stay with me instead of letting us drift apart.

   Every time I touched him, it was like every sense was on fire. I bit my lip, hardly holding back a dimpled smile as I curled my bare toes into the dusty carpet.

   So instead, I kissed Harry again, and smiled into his lips, because right now, in that moment, that was all that was important- that was all that I wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo this is the final chapter of You're My Kryptonite!  
> this is actually like the only story i've ever finished wow...  
> anyway, i hope you're satisfied with the ending. but guess it, there's MORE in the sequel!! it's not named yet but it'll be started after their second album's released :P
> 
> thanks everyone for your loving support and comments, they make my DAY! :)  
> love you guys x <3


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